Star Wars: Retribution
by ChillifyVilify
Summary: Phoenix Squadron races to collect the final Star Map on Dantooine. Thrawn and the rest of the Empire races to stop them. Meanwhile, the countdown towards Operation decreases with every second. Can Kastan and the rest of the Phoenix Squadron destroy the Star Forge before it can be used? (Story is better than summary. Sequel to Star Wars: Insurgency.) Part 2 of the Enderbeck Schism.
1. Recollection

**I've got quite a few "requests" to get the second** **movie** **story up. Now, I know it's been awhile, but I PROMISED. And I intend to make due. Therefore, here's the long-awaited sequel to SW:Insurgency: Star Wars: Retribution. Unlike the last fic, it won't have Phoenix cameos. It has ACTUAL PHOENIX CHARACTERS. Now, please excuse me while I deal with the angry mob that has suddenly appeared at my door.**

 **DISCLAIMER: To my great displeasure, I don't own any Star Wars of any kind. If I did, I would be stupid rich and probably live on Skywalker Ranch. (Which is an actual place, mind you.)**

 **Part 1: The Map**

 **!0*0!**

"We've intercepted an leak from the Empire," Mon Mothma announced. "Overall, it gives us a schematic for the Star Destroyer Vanguard, which also happens to be orbiting Lothal at this moment.

The motley crew assembled in front of her subconsciously shuddered at the mention of Lothal. Where it had all started.

"So what are you asking?" the blue-haired boy near the back asked.

"A… raid, you would say."

The burly Lasat in the front raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing.

"What strategic purpose would this hold?" the Twi'lek pilot and the leader of the squadron inquired.

"Simple. From what we've deduced, Grand Admiral Thrawn himself will be there to oversee… something. We don't know quite what that is yet, but the purpose doesn't matter. And to be blunt, Thrawn is one of the few servants of the Emperor who actually recognizes the threat the Rebellion poses as it stands. Therefore, if Thrawn could be, say… eliminated…"

The squadron's collectives eyes widened at the statement. But somewhere, deep down inside, they relished it. They looked to each other, as if affirming something.

"How much time do we have?" the Mandalorian asked.

"Four rotations. You'll be meeting them on Dantooine," Mon Mothma replied, grinning.

 **!0*0!**

Grand Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo, better known as Thrawn, watched from the bridge of the Star Destroyer _Vanguard_. He had commissioned it when he was only Vice-Admiral, and thus it held a small place in what remained of his heart.

A veritable ocean of ensigns assaulted his ears as they gave each other orders pertaining to how to maintain the ship. What an utter waste of veritable skill, no? Couldn't a starship look after itself?

Then there was… the other one. GRG-892. A recently promoted Stormtrooper Commander. Of all his subordinates on the _Vanguard_ , GRG-892 was the most respectable. He was devious, even by Thrawn's standards. So perhaps it was a benefit to have GRG-892 as one of his subordinates.

Despite his best efforts, Phoenix Squadron still managed to elude some of his plots. Luckily, the victories the Rebels actually carried out were not necessarily the most important in Thrawn's grand scheme, but still noteworthy. If anything, the victories were almost _too_ lucky, as if someone had tipped them off.

And Thrawn was determined to figure out who.

The _Vanguard_ exited hyperspace over the volcanic world of Vjun. The Emperor had ordered all available troops to be shifted to Dantooine, and for good reason. Phoenix Squadron and the Insurgent, combined, had already discovered four of the five Star Maps necessary to discover the Star Forge that was central to Operation. While Thrawn loathed menial jobs like this, he understood its importance to the Empire's strategy, and accepted it.

For now.

 **!0*0!**

 _I'm just a number._

 _I'm just a number._

 _I'm just a number._

 _I'm just a number._

 _I'M JUST A NUMBER._

The lone thought coursed through G5-81356's mind, and he was unable to dispel it. The mantra seized all waking thought, and only the mindless state of sleep could hope to grant a moment's peace.

But even that was not enough, for the twisted abominations George had called _dreams_ consumed every wink of rest available to G5-81356. But it _wasn't_ G5-81356. _He_ was Kastan Enderbeck, the one and only, Grandmaster of the True Light, Friend of the Rebellion, Sworn Enemy of the Empire, and most recently, Sith Clone.

And ironically enough, somehow… Kastan was okay with that. Perhaps George's words held more wisdom than he had thought; just because he was a clone made from the DNA of some of the most heinous and powerful Sith Lords in history didn't mean he had to be like them. And deep down, he had always known. Why else would he refuse the Empire's offer to join their ranks?

 _Because he wasn't one of them._

The door to his overly small cell slammed open, and Grand Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo strolled inside. From outside the window, Kastan could make out black rocks, red lava flows and an oddly shaped castle-like structure in the distance.

"Salutations, G5-81356," Thrawn said curtly. Even when Thrawn was making power plays like this, Kastan could still appreciate his courtesy.

"What brings a Grand Admiral to the dwellings of a humble Sith Clone? I'm afraid I don't have any chair on which you can sit, but feel free to squat on the floor if you wish."

Thrawn narrowed his eyes before responding. "I'm not going to respond to… _that_."

"But you just did…"

"What I want from you," Thrawn said, ignoring Kastan's remark, "is your allegiance to the Galactic Empire. Nothing more, nothing less."

Kastan narrowed his eyes into slits, but said nothing.

"Last chance," Thrawn said, subtly showing keys from within his pocket.

"I told Emperor Palpatine no, what do you think will be different now? Nothing. The answer is still no."

"I had thought the time alone in these rather dank accommodations would more than convince you to change your mind, but I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything more from you, G5-81356."

Thrawn nodded, then left, slamming the door behind him. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Kastan smirking.

"Prepare a shuttle," he all but shouted at a random ensign. "I'm going to the surface."

 **!0*0!**

The _Ghost_ exited hyperspace above the farming world of Dantooine. It seemed peaceful from up in space, but appearances were all too often deceiving.

"A party of three would be most efficient, Kastan said," Hera Syndulla announced. "Who volunteers?"

"Statement: T3-M4 has displayed a desire to accompany whoever travels to the Star Map," HK-47 said. They had picked both of Kastan's old droids on Manaan, as well as a Selkath Rebel, funnily enough.

"And why is this?" Zeb inquired suspiciously.

"Answer: T3-M4 claims to be the most knowledgeable on the location in question," HK-47 answered. "And I personally agree."

"Fine. T3 is going. That leaves two," Kanan concluded. "Either myself or Ezra should accompany them, as T3's knowledge of the location and our Force-sensitivity should be able to triangulate the location well enough. Hera should probably stay on the ship, as she's best with piloting. No offense of course," he added hastily upon seeing Hera's expression. "And we don't need Chopper nor HK because T3 is already with us," Kanan finished. "That leaves Zeb, Sabine, Ezra, and me. And if I go, Ezra probably shouldn't, and vice versa."

"Frankly, I think I'll pass," Zeb enunciated. "Because if I do, nobody on the ship will have the brute strength to do anything. Besides, I've never had the patience for all this searching."

"C'mon," Ezra replied, playfully punching Zeb's shoulder.

"So it's settled. T3, Ezra, and Sabine. Keep the lines open, and may the Force be with you." Hera said as the three in question made their way towards the _Phantom_.

It only took half an hour for them to land in a somewhat decent, and it would have took less time had the ground not been on _fire_ for miles at a time.

"What even happened here? I don't understand," Ezra voiced.

"Beep-oop weep dee-boop. Boop doop weep beep," T3 answered.

"Then again, what did we expect? The Empire destroys everything," Ezra replied, his eyes almost glazed over.

"Ezra. Ezra!"

"Huh? What happened?"

"It looks like we've got company!" Sabine yelled, pointing off to the horizon.

Ezra squinted and saw what looked like _Mandalorians_ charging towards them with a good number of heavy armaments.

"We can probably take them, wouldn't you agree?" Ezra proclaimed.

"Something's off about them," Sabine said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Ezra replied.

Then he got hit by T3-M4. The blow wasn't too substantial, but it was enough to knock the breath out of him.

"Oh, that's why," Sabine said. "They can use the Force."

T3 suffered the most damage, and the only real problem was that it landed upside down. A quick repair kit and a flip and T3 was good as new.

They had already closed half the distance between them, and the odds suddenly weren't looking so good.

"Let's head to those ruins. They should probably offer a strategic advantage," Ezra said, gesticulating towards a few broken-down buildings.

"Not like we have any better options," Sabine replied, shrugging.

Having made their decision, the three companions turned and scampered through the maze-like hills and valleys of Dantooine. A few wild iriaz passed them by, and more than enough packs of Kath Hounds too many attempted an ambush, but other than that, the run to the ruins were more or less uneventful. The Mandalorians appeared to back off the closer they got to the ruins. Interesting.

The door slammed shut behind them as they caught their breath.

"Because the galaxy needed Force-wielding Mandalorian raiders," Sabine grumbled.

"I think you make it sound worse than it actually is, Sabine," Ezra replied with a sly smirk.

She rolled her eyes in response.

The trio began to explore the ruins that they had found themselves inside. The whole area was coated in a darkened gloom. As they progressed, the air became staler, the ground cooler, the walls danker. One of the rooms was completely flooded with freshwater, or so T3 claimed.

They thought it wasn't very fresh at all.

There was another room, within the deepest sanctums of the complex, that was _filled_ with books, books, books. Ezra opened one at random, then dropped it in surprise as a family of crickets burst from the new hole in their surroundings. He picked it up, dusted it off, and then looked at the cover. On it was the insignia of - the Jedi? There was only one logical conclusion to make.

"Hey, Sabine?" Ezra called.

"What?" She replied from halfway across the building.

"I think this might have been an old Jedi Temple," he yelled.

"Come to think of it, Kastan mentioned this," Sabine said.

"When did he say that?"

"Before he left for… well, here."

Ezra rolled his eyes, not bothering to demean that with a response.

"He also said that the Star Map was kinda close to it. Somewhere in… that direction," she said, pointing to the west. "In some… ruins."

"There are ruins everywhere, though," Ezra whined. "How are we supposed to tell which one has the Star Map in it?"

"This is your department. Kastan said something about it being a beacon of Dark energy. You're telling me you haven't sensed it or whatever?"

"Honestly, I never looked," Ezra replied sheepishly. "Let me check."

A moment of silence ensued before Ezra stumbled back.

"Found it. To the west, like you said. Geez, that's a lot of twisted Force Power. I suppose we should head out."

"Let's."

They walked outside the ruins of the Jedi Temple to find the Mandalorian raiders staring them down from only a few feet away.

They glanced at each other, nodded, and leapt into battle.

The Mandalorians took aim, but found their many, _many_ guns futile when they were promptly chopped in half with Ezra's emerald saber. None fled; rather, they garnered swords and charged.

It was a hectic battle, but it was T3's gravity generators, Ezra's Force, and Sabine's ingenuity that led them to victory… somehow. Frankly, it wasn't even like the Mandalorians were trying to begin with. Ezra looked to Sabine with a quizzical expression on his face, but was only met with the same look. They shrugged, turned, and strolled towards the ruins in the distance.

The whole thing was shaped like a hemisphere. It had the old, rusted look of something that used to be antique, but had fallen out of favor long ago, and was left to rot in the backwater of the world, only to be remembered in the vestiges of memory. The thing was adorned by statues, or at least things that used to be statues. Now they were little more than caricatures of what they were meant to be.

Ezra, Sabine, and T3-M4 slowly walked along an inclined plane, towards what appeared to be a door. Anything and everything was possible; like the other Star Maps, a heavy aura of darkness shrouded the entire complex. The door didn't open to admit them, and trial and error proved that it was unaffected by explosives, gunfire, lightsabers, or even the Force. They were stumped.

"Maybe it's not the entrance. There's probably another way," Ezra said glumly.

"From where? Whatever was used to build the door was probably also used to build the rest of the ruins. This has to be the way. It _has_ to be!" Sabine retorted.

They began bickering over what to do. Unbeknownst to them, T3-M4 slid out from behind them and approached the door. The humans behind it suddenly stopped arguing, anxious to see what magic the droid was about to pull off.

All T3-M4 did was tap the square in the center of the door with a probe from its midsection. For some reason, the square pressed inwards as it made a scraping noise. The top and bottom of the door split open, surprisingly quick for something of its age.

"T3? How did you _do_ that? I _tried_ that, and it didn't work!" Ezra said.

T3 mumbled something incoherent, something about a key in the Jedi Temple.

"Oh, the other ruins?"

T3 whistled to the affirmative.

"Well? What are we waiting for?" Sabine inquired.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Ezra drawled.

"Like Master, like Padawan," Sabine mumbled before the trio slinked into the ruins.

 **!0*0!**

The Star Destroyer _Vanguard_ leapt into hyperspace yet again, this time a few hundred thousand stormtroopers heavier. Whenever he saw a mass array of stormtroopers, Kastan had to question whether their incompetence was intentional or not. Frankly, it made more sense than met the eye; each blaster shot that killed a worthless trooper is one that didn't kill a trooper the Empire spent time training and equipping. From what precious little Kastan had overheard from his mostly soundproof cell, the vessel was headed to Bespin to pick up the last payload of stormtroopers before jumping to Dantooine. Why didn't they just leave him on Bespin? He would have to ask George when he showed up again. Speak of the devil; the cell door slid open to admit GRG-892. His face was a bit flushed, and he was grinning giddily.

"What's got you so worked up?" Kastan asked, smirking.

"Just set a new Empire record for target practice. 36 targets in 20 seconds. Pretty good, eh?"

"Certainly better than I would do."

There was a pause.

"So George, I've been thinking. Why would Grand Admiral Thrawn want to bring _me_ to Dantooine, where the rebels are as of this moment? Wouldn't it be safer to leave me on Bespin, so it's less likely that I'll be… ahem… _rescued_?" Kastan voiced.

"It's already been considered; the odds of Lando Calrissian freeing you are just too high. At least here, myself and Thrawn can keep an eye on you. Now doesn't that make more sense?" George replied.

"I suppose so," Kastan admitted. "You know, George?"

"Hm?" George grunted, turning around. To be truthful, he was headed for the door.

"I was just wondering something. Never mind."

"No, tell me," George asked, sitting back down on the poor excuse for bedding.

"It's nothing. It's just- the Force kind of… swirls around you. Not much, but just enough to be of notice."

"Oh?" George said. It was only around now that he was actually interested in what Kastan had to say this entire time.

"I think you might be," Kastan said, barely audible over the ship's engine, "Force Sensitive."

He paused. "I think I'd know if I could wield the Force as you do. To even be able to touch it, as you do. Frankly, I think you're deluding yourself. Nothing against it, deluding oneself can be the best coping mechanism for a tough situation. No, I'm not Force Sensitive."

George often talked like this, pushing for callous logic without any sense for the feelings of others. Maybe that was one of the reasons why Kastan enjoyed his presence so much.

 **!0*0!**

"What kind of droid is _that_?" Ezra questioned. "Is that even a droid?"

They were looking at a lump of metal that remotely appeared to be a droid of some kind. Without any prompt, it whirred to life, eight spindly legs pushing its core into the air. It had one eye, which was shifted somewhat to its right. It glowed yellow.

Unintelligible ululations spewed forth from the tiny tube it called a mouth. These noises were utterly incomprehensible, to Ezra, Sabine and T3.

"Sabine, did you understand that?"

"Nope. Not a clue what it's trying to say."

New noises started emanating from the droid. These sounds were completely different from the ones it had used before.

"What is this thing _doing_?"

"I think it's cycling through languages in order to figure out which one it can communicate with us with," Sabine reasoned. "Either that, or it's broken."

"Hm…" Ezra muttered.

The droid started spouting another shpiel of disjointed vocalizations.

"Yup, it's definitely cycling through languages," Ezra concluded. "That one sounds an awful lot like whatever those Jawas were saying back on Tatooine."

"But can we tell what it's trying to say?" Sabine asked.

"What I wouldn't give to have HK right now," Ezra mourned.

I can reproduce any of the languages spoken by the slaves of the Builders, emanated the droid. This time, it had spurted an archaic variant of Shyriiwook.

"Hey! Doesn't that sound like what the Wookiee were saying?" Ezra exclaimed.

"Sure am glad I came along. I can understand most of it," Sabine said offhandedly.

"When did you learn to do _that_?" Ezra inquired, narrowing his eyes.

"Kastan gave me a crash course, but that's not important," Sabine dismissed. "I think it can understand us, but-"

That would be correct.

"Okay then. Let's ask it some basic questions and go from there," Sabine reasoned. "What is your purpose?"

I am the Overseer. The Builders programmed me to enforce discipline among the slaves while this monument to the power of the Star Forge was constructed. At project completion all slaves were executed. I was reprogrammed to serve should a Builder return in search of knowledge of the Star Forge.

"Well, what do you know of the Star Forge?" Sabine pushed.

The Star Forge is the glory of the Builders, the apex of their infinite empire. It is a machine of infinite might, a tool of unstoppable conquest.

"But… what is it? Can you be more specific?"

The… The Star Forge is the glory of the Builders, the apex of their infinite empire. It is a machine of infinite might, a tool of unstoppable conquest.

"Evidently, this droid isn't programmed with that much knowledge," Sabine lamented.

"Try asking it another question," Ezra reasoned.

"Okay. Who are these Builders you keep talking about?"

The Builders are the great masters of the galaxy, the conqueror of all worlds, the rulers of the infinite empire and the creators of the Star Forge.

"Well, when was the last time you saw a Builder?" Ezra asked.

I have been here ever since the creation of this monument. In all this time, no Builder has returned to seek information of the Star Forge.

"How long have you _been_ here?" Ezra pushed.

My chronological circuits have marked over twelve full revolutions of the system's outermost planet around the sun since the Builders left.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Twelve revolutions of the outermost planet in this system would take… more than twenty-four thousand years. If that's true, than this droid is at _least_ 9,000 years older than the dawn of the Republic! There has to be some mistake." Sabine said with a palpable aura of disbelief.

There is no mistake. The Builders constructed my chronological circuitry using the technology of the Star Forge itself. My calculations are infallible, the droid asserted.

"Sabine, we're getting off track. Ask it about the Star Map," Ezra said chidingly.

The Star Map is just behind this door. Before you enter, you must break the life and death seals.

"And how do we do that?"

Enter the Proving Grounds to the east and west. Within them, those who understand the wills of the Builders can unlock their secrets and open the door.

But those who fail will be destroyed by the power of the temple itself. More than this, I am not programmed to say.

"Sounds like a plan. Sabine, we're going."

Ezra randomly picked the door to his left and dragged Sabine in that direction.

Unlike outside, he was able to open the door. Immediately afterwards, a landslide of rock and dust pummeled the room, just barely avoiding the Overseer. Ezra was able to use the Force to push the stones out of the way. Scattered droid parts filled the room, but there was an evident computer.

As Ezra walked towards the computer, the screen flickered to life. A series of incomprehensible characters flooded the screen. Ezra pushed a button, causing even more characters to fill the screen. He started punching random buttons, hoping something would change. Nothing did. Hopelessly lost, Ezra kicked the base of the computer. Now his foot hurt. Way to go.

"Ezra!"

"What?"

"T3 is saying to take a datapad and stick it in the computer," Sabine said.

Ezra patted his clothes before looking at Sabine sheepishly.

"You wouldn't happen to have one on you, would you?"

Sabine groaned before pulling a datapad out of nothingness and handing it to him. Ezra did as he was told, and suddenly the computer went silent. New characters blared across the screen, but this time, they were in Basic.

LANGUAGE DETECTED.

ANALYZING…

ANALYZATION COMPLETE.

PLEASE SELECT THE THREE LIFE-GIVING PLANETARY TYPES:

DESERT

ARBOREAL

BARREN

VOLCANIC

OCEANIC

GRASSLAND

"Well, this is easy," Ezra taunted before quickly pressing 'Arboreal', 'Oceanic', and 'Grassland'.

ANALYZING…

ANALYZATION COMPLETE.

BREAKING LIFE SEAL…

"The heck?! It just booted me from the system!" Ezra exclaimed.

"Let's just go to the other one…" Sabine groaned.

They exited the room, only to find that T3 had beaten them to it.

"Beep-weep boop beep doop weep!" it emitted.

"Oh… that works too," Sabine said, shrugging.

They approached the northern door, and as they approached, it opened. Both of them continued forward, and opened another door to find the Star Map just… there.

"No super-deadly things to fight?"

"Don't complain. You'll jinx it," Sabine retorted.

He approached, datapad in hand. As he did so, the upward prong split into four, gaping wider and wider. The central ball began to rise to where the tip of the prong was before its transformation. Once there, it lit itself on fire, and a map of the Galaxy appeared. Ezra expected the same old broken coords as usual, but this time, something was different. There were five dots on the map, and suddenly, the whole system went black as red triangles started appearing between all the points. Eventually, one turned green, and then another. The Star Map started spurting completed hyperspace coords, and even afforded them a glimpse of the Star Forge itself. Then all too soon it died, and the temple was plunged into darkness.

"Well, that's it. The Star Forge."

Ezra's communicator blared. "Ezra? Come in."

"Hera? We got the Star Map."

"About time! The Empire's here!"

Sabine punched Ezra in the shoulder. "I told you not to jinx it!"

"We're going for the Phantom now," Ezra replied. Hera was about to start saying something, but in his panic Ezra shut the communicator off.

There would be time for talking once the Star Forge was destroyed.

Or did it have to be? Could there be another way?

The trio exited the temple to witness an whole _system_ 's worth of stormtroopers crest the horizon, beelining towards the ruins.

 **The hardest part of this chapter was the dialogue for the Overseer. I spent more than three hours trying to figure out the exact wording… and then I watched a video and it was stupidly easy. Oh well.**

 **Anyway, that was that. Now that midterms is almost over, I'm not going to be able to post as frequently. By which I mean expect the next one at, like, next year or something stupid like that.**

 **Oh, and if you haven't already: LEAVE A REVIEW ON SW:I! I would really appreciate any feedback you would have.**

 **Overall, this is Phoenix -1, AKA Prof. Zerkxes, over and out.**


	2. Torture

**You guys probably don't know this, but I am currently writing SW:A at the same time as SW:R. Yes, part 3 is confirmed; Star Wars: Aberration. Happy? Good. Anyhoo, welcome to the second reason why I need less free time. Also, I really shouldn't be doing this, but WHENEVER I TRY TO TYPE THE WORD DON'T (Which I happen to do a lot), IT WILL ADD AN EXTRA 'T WHEN I TYPE ANY NON-LETTER AFTER DON. SO I END UP GETTING DON'T'T, AND I HAVE TO GO BACK AND DELETE IT EVERY SINGLE GOTTVERDAMMT TIME!**

 **Phew. Still angry about that.**

 **DISCLAIMER: If I owned Star Wars, I would have a moral obligation to make Jar Jar Binks non-canon. Since that monstrosity still exists, I don't own Star Wars.**

Part 2: The Capture

 **!0*0!**

Time flowed slowly, as platoon after platoon of stormtroopers flooded the vast Dantooine plains. The streak of uniform white was swiftly eating through the green plains, towards the hemispheral ruins to the due north. Grand Admiral Thrawn watched this all, a rare look of worry creeping onto his otherwise cool and collected Chiss features. The entire plan of attack hinged on Phoenix not having escaped the ruins by the time they got there. His thoughts were interrupted by an ensign.

"Sir. We have visuals on the Rebels. They are exiting the ruins as of this very instant."

Perfect. Just kriffing perfect.

"Send a full squadron of troopers to cut off their retreat. And raze the ruins completely from the face of this planet."

"Yes, Grand Admiral."

Thrawn knew not how long he had been standing there, in his shuttle, until a branch of troopers dropped off the main fleet and beelined towards the ruins further to the east. His doldrums were interrupted yet again by GRG-892.

"Permission to borrow a shuttle, sir?" GRG-892 asked.

"This is the only shuttle we were allowed," Thrawn countered. "If it were up to me, I would have brought an orbital bombardment fleet."

GRG-892 looked down, almost dejected. "Understood, sir. I just thought we could get to the Rebels faster by just flying there."

"Yes, but someone has to watch over… _this_ ," Thrawn said, gesturing towards the river of stormtroopers.

"So, bring a squadron and fly over there. I'll man the troopers," GRG-892 offered.

Thrawn frowned, considering. "Very well," he admitted. "I forgot I had someone I could actually trust to oversee anything. Raze the entire complex."

GRG-892 smirked good-naturedly. "As you command, sir."

Within the next four minutes, a full half-battalion of troopers were squeezed into the small shuttle. It swiftly took flight, streaking over the ubiquitous plains, over the ruins in the direction of the nearest spacecraft signal.

 **!0*0!**

An Imperial shuttle streaked over the heads of the trio and towards the erstwhile Temple.

"Thrawn's up there!" Ezra yelled. "We're going to have to take a detour!"

"And what do you suggest? The Phantom is in those ruins, Ezra! We can't afford to take a detour!" Sabine pointed out.

Ezra rolled his eyes and whipped out his communicator.

"Scepter 1, do you read?"

Silence.

"SCEPTER 1, DO YOU READ?"

Only static.

"HERA! DO YOU READ ME?"

"Bad time to call, we're in the middle of a dogfight!" their leader's voice emanated.

"Thrawn's on the surface, and we might not get back. We're beaming the Star Map to you. As soon as the transmission is received, get out of there."

"What about you?!"

"We'll be fine. Just do it!"

"All right, I guess! Chopper, plug in the coords!"

The audio went dead. Shrugging helplessly, Ezra threw the communicator down, pulled the datapad out, and more or less pushed it into T3's head. While still running.

They had reached the Temple, but the Imperial shuttle had long since landed. Surprisingly, no one seemed to be guarding the vessel as they usually did. A quick glance at Sabine confirmed the plan as they slinked through the crass shadows of the Temple ruins.

As soon as they entered the Imperial craft, they shut the door behind them, ensuring the Empire wouldn't have time to react.

"I swear, they really do just let us steal these things," Sabine laughed.

"Beep-woop beep…"

"They didn't get the name "Imps" for nothing," Ezra reasoned.

"Beep-woop beep."

"T3, can you plug in coords for the base?"

"BEEP-WOOP BEEP!"

"WHAT?" They asked loudly, spinning around to face the droid.

In response, T3 pointed behind him at the hulking form of Grand Admiral Thrawn.

"You're kidding me," Ezra and Sabine said in unison.

T3 just nodded.

Fighting in these interiors couldn't be done with available weaponry, as any form of gunfire or lightsaber would render the craft useless at its intended purpose of flying. Nor were Force blasts viable for the same reason. Before they could begin a skirmish, a squadron of imperial troopers burned a hole through the door and quickly overwhelmed the Rebel trio. One particularly audacious stormtrooper decided to smash the window of the aircraft and push in that direction. This was intelligent for three reasons. One: the Rebels were now fighting a two-front battle. Two: they could no longer escape in that craft on the off chance that they drove off Thrawn's forces. Three: This is GRG-892 being discussed.

Needless to say, Ezra, Sabine, and T3 were quickly subdued and arrested by the Empire.

 **!0*0!**

An escape was necessary, Kastan decided. Forget waiting for GRG-892, he wasn't going to stick around any longer than absolutely necessary. One problem: Being an amputee made it difficult to get around. When push came to shove, the Force could augment Kastan's movement significantly, but doing that in the middle of a firefight is not the best idea, aside from the fact that it just wouldn't be enough in a general setting.

The fact remained: Kastan was, to an extent, helpless. His cell had been specially designed; the walls were laced with onnsium, an artificial compound that negated the use of the Force on it. And even if he managed to get out of the cell, the entire Star Destroyer would be waiting for him, and Kastan would be pathetically useless against them.

 _I hate being so… helpless!_ _Goddamn it!_

Endless time passed. Kastan cared not whether it was a second or a millenium, as there was no method of tracking it and was therefore pointless.

 _The instant we lose hope is the instant we lose everything. And we have everything to lose._

With some new-found determination, Kastan knelt and assumed a meditative pose. As he did so, a bluish aura emanated from his body. Battle Meditation was a rare sight, one to behold, but as Kastan was always the creator, he never had the chance to actually see the technique in action. His mind was clear, his consciousness holed up in a place no thought would dare to enter. The place where feelings, emotion itself stems from and blooms, was the key to Battle Meditation, which also explained why so few Jedi managed to do it. Because of the whole "there is no emotion" thing that Jedi clung to so desperately, many of them completely denied that such a thing was possible. It was only the Jedi that managed to balance their emotions and not let the dark side hold sway that were able to reliably use the technique. Therefore, it was often headstrong, brash Jedi (comparatively) that used Battle Meditation, and as a whole, far more Sith were able to use Battle Mediation than Jedi, because they knew how to use their emotions to meet an end goal. In the end, Battle Meditation was a wholly different beast than the traditional Force, simply because of how it worked. It actually tampered with the Force itself, bypassing the midichlorians to directly influence the future by making the probability of certain outcomes increase exponentially. Or at least, so said some Sith holocron Kastan had picked up on Naboo, of all places.

 _Enough background thought,_ Kastan thought. _I have a destiny to mess with._

Then the door opened, shattering Kastan's delicate thought process.

 **!0*0!**

The cell was decidedly boring, save for the random drainage pipe attached to the bottom of the cell. It was dark, bland, and utterly time-wasting to look in more detail. There was also Kastan chained to the ceiling, but due to the darkness of the room, Ezra didn't quite notice this until the two collided in the lease graceful manner possible.

Oh, and there was a window. Lovely.

"Don't bother trying to get out. The walls are laced with onnsium," Kastan lamented.

"So we're going to rot in here forever," Ezra concluded.

"Not if George has anything to say about it."

"Who's George?"

"Don't worry about it," Kastan said hurriedly.

Ezra rolled his eyes in mild annoyance.

The door slid open with an artificial whooshing noise to admit a stormtrooper, with commander's pauldrons gracing his shoulder plates. He clearly noticed the other two in the cell, but paid little heed, if any. Kastan looked at the trooper with an implacable expression; the other two in the cell watched raptly, waiting for the sound to emit from Kastan's throat.

To say they were shell-shocked was an understatement.

"Hey George," Kastan grinned.

"Kas, this is the third time this week I've had to unchain you from up there, and it's _Monday_. How do you do that?" George questioned.

"Some of your underlings think it's hilarious," the amputee responded.

"And I don't disagree," George said, a wry grin spreading across his features. "But we have to have _standards_ , wouldn't you agree? Not everyone in the Empire is a Kas-hating sonuvabitch, you know."

"Yes, no, maybe so," Kastan mocked. "Just get me down from here, you crazy nerf-herder."

George hastened to oblige, while Ezra and Sabine finished recovering from their _whytheheckisKastanchattingwithastormtrooperlikethey'reanoldmarriedcouple_ stasis.

"Can I ask who this guy is and how you know him?" Sabine asked hesitantly.

"Long story, and I can't be bothered to lose my voice going into the details. That, and if I did tell you, you'd probably kill him, then me, then yourselves so that you can go into the deepest, darkest pit of hell for the sole purpose of making our afterlife pure and unbridled pain," Kastan explained.

"Consider us notified," Ezra drawled.

 **!0*0!**

Hyperspace coursed around the _Ghost_ as it hurtled towards the location of the Star Forge. One Garazeb Orrelios lumbered into the cockpit, awaiting their own arrival at what Kastan had dubbed "Rakata Prime". A good amount of time passed before, lo and behold, the event occured, throwing the Rebels into ordinary space at the prime position to stare in wonder at the massive space obelisk known as the Star Forge.

"The Star Forge," Kanan whispered, awestruck. "I've… never seen anything like it."

"I'm sending these coordinates to Mon Mothma," Hera said. "Maybe a quick strike by the Rebellion can… never mind, they have a defensive fleet. And a massive one, at that."

Like dots of light against the vast backdrop of space, but not easily mistaken for normal stars, lay enough Star Destroyers to blockade every Core World known to spacers.

Chopper added something incomprehensible.

"We should be safe here," Kanan interjected. "We're outside their field of sight and ship's detectors. As long as we keep out of said range, everything will be fine and nobody will be the wiser."

"Even still," Hera argued, "we won't have enough time to destroy the Star Forge, much less escape in time to survive. We should bide our time, get the kids back, and then attack with the full backing of Yavin IV."

"Judging by the dark side energy flooding through this place… I'd say it would be worth it," Kanan said.

"I'd have to say that I agree with Kanan. This place has an awfully disturbing feel to it," Zeb asserted.

"Retort: I highly doubt you will be able to do anything here, Lasat," HK-47 interrupted. "Statement: That facility is covered by a disruptor field stemming from the only planet in the system."

"So the Empire's ships have a resistance to it, because they're flying just around the Star Forge," Hera realized.

"Answer: Precisely. The current probability of actually managing to do anything of long-term use is .00003712% and that was some generous rounding. If we managed to retrieve the remainder of your force, and more importantly, my Master, I calculate that those odds would multiply about a thousandfold."

Chopper muttered something dismal.

"Rebuke: Was that necessary?"

"Chopper's right; that does only leave .003712% chance," Zeb enunciated.

"It's decided, then. We're leaving to get reinforcements," Hera decided.

The _Ghost_ was swallowed by hyperspace, leaving an Imperial fleet none the wiser.

 **!0*0!**

Kastan decided that he hated his existence.

The _Vanguard_ streaked through hyperspace, illuminating the cramped cell with its azure light. Ezra and Sabine had long since retreated to another corner of the room to contemplate their fates. Not that he blamed them; he suspected that it was Kastan's capture that got everyone into this situation in the first place. He could only hope that HK had dissuaded Hera, Kanan, and Zeb from attacking the Star Forge all on their lonesome.

Thrawn appeared in the doorway, flanked by a good number of stormtroopers.

"Ezra. Sabine. G5-81356. We're going somewhere."

Puzzled by the term G5-81356, the former two of the three obliged. Kastan just smirked mirthlessly and hobbled out of the cell, assisted by one GRG-892. In the few weeks that he'd known his former Twi'lek jailmate, Tariga had managed to work a miracle and regraft Kastan's spinal cord; he was no longer paralyzed from the waist down, but being an amputee still made it difficult to walk unassisted. At least his dysfunctional arm was opposite his nonexistent leg; it made it easier to use a crutch.

The trio was led to a small room - enormous in comparison to their cell - with three cylindrical containers stuffed within and a control panel facing away from them.

They were each shoved into an individual cylinder, and once they passed into it, a whitish electrical barrier. Kastan's, by some degree of luck, has a singular pole stuck in the middle of it, allowing the Sith Clone to stand a bit more comfortably.

"Now," Thrawn announced, "All three of you have been implanted with Force Inhibitors made from pure onnsium. I am going to ask you a series of questions. Answer incorrectly, or fail to answer, and-"

"And you activate those things and torture us," Ezra completed. "Standard Imperial procedure."

"I'm afraid not, Ezra Bridger," Thrawn replied coolly, with more than a hint of amusement laced into his voice. "Answer incorrectly, or fail to answer, and I activate these and torture the _other two_. Maybe you are resistant to torture, but are you resistant to others put under the same thing?"

"I assume we're all in agreement to not say anything?" Kastan inquired.

Ezra and Sabine both nodded- and were promptly zapped with moderate levels of pain.

A momentary pause ensued in the wake of the electric noise of the machine, which had dimmed somewhat.

"... was that it?" Kastan asked.

"That was a 50," Thrawn said, jerking a thumb towards three dials pointing at the number 20. "You will notice that the scale goes up into the thousands. "Every time you answer a question incorrectly or fail to answer, the other two dials go up by 20. The scale is exponential, so 20 as of now will mean far less pain than 20 as of 500. Let the questioning begin."

The three inmates set their expressions to a neutral stare.

"What is your name?" Thrawn said, stepping towards the cell of Sabine Wren.

Sabine thought for a moment.

"Sabine Wren," she answered.

"Good. You have the hang of it, more or less. Now, what is your master's name?" Thrawn said deviously, moving rightwards towards the cell of Ezra Bridger.

"Kanan Jarrus," Ezra replied.

"I regret to inform you that that answer is incorrect. Had you truly known your master, you would have answered Caleb Dûme," Thrawn said with a palpable aura of superiority. He nodded towards a nameless stormtrooper, who was more than happy to turn the dials for Sabine and Kastan to 40.

"Now. What is your name?" Thrawn said, finally stepping towards the cell of Kastan Enderbeck.

"Kastan Enderbeck, obviously."

"No. You are G5-81356, and you are ONLY G5-81356. Any reference to G5-81356 as 'Kastan Enderbeck' will hereby be counted as an incorrect answer. For getting the question incorrect, G5-81356, and for referencing Kastan Enderbeck, that is two counts of twenty."

The dial for Ezra was suddenly switched to a sixty, and Sabine's rose to an eighty, eliciting an involuntary yelp of pain from the Mandalorian. G5-81356's hand clenched into a tight fist. The Chiss warlord noticed, and grinned sadistically.

"Where is the Rebel Base?"

"Alderaan," Sabine answered automatically.

"False," Thrawn verified. "Alderaan has been thoroughly searched time and time again."

An eighty for Ezra, a forty for G5-81356.

"Who runs the Rebels?"

"No one," Ezra replied.

"I doubt that. The Rebellion is too organized for it to still be haphazard cells."

A full 100 for Sabine, a 60 for G5-81356.

"Now, who rules the Galaxy?"

A silence ensued as G5-81356 pondered the question. He was slightly distracted by the constant moderate pain.

"The Empire," the Sith Clone decided.

"I was looking for the Emperor, but I'll give partial credit," Thrawn mused.

"This sounds awfully like a school test," Kastan said, disgruntled.

"I take back the partial credit," Thrawn decided.

A 120 for Sabine, and a round 100 for Ezra. The pain was becoming severe.

G5-81356's hand was clenched so tightly that his fingernails drew blood.

Thrawn tried to stifle laughter.

"What is your quest?"

"To depose the Empire," Sabine answered.

"What is your quest?"

"To reinstate justice throughout the galaxy," Ezra asserted.

"What is your quest?"

"To find the Holy Grail," Kastan drawled, "and hopefully to kill you slowly in the process."

Thrawn grinned. "Just this once, we'll punish the answerer for that. Bring it up eighty."

Sabine's eyes bugged out of her head. The nameless torturer was grinning in sadistic ecstacy under his stoic white helm.

The dial went to 140. The pain Kastan felt suddenly became acutely painful, torment coursing through his veins. He leaned heavily on the pole in the center of his cell.

"How do you feel about Ezra Bridger?"

"He can be kind of single-minded at times, but he's good company," Sabine said.

"How do you feel about G5-81356?"

"Kas is a talented Force-user, there's got to be something to admire there," Ezra admitted. "But to be honest, he's kind of weak physically."

"Honest, but we're not allowed to use G5-81356's name here.

G5-81356 managed to shrug good-naturedly as his dial cranked to 180. A droplet of his own blood hit the floor of his electric cell, sizzling.

"How do you feel about Sabine Wren?"

G5-81356 said nothing, his working arm convulsing slightly in the electric current.

Sabine's dial peaked at 140, while Ezra's stuck at 120.

"I asked you a question," Thrawn restated, his expression morphing from contained amusement to deathly serious.

Kastan mumbled something incoherent.

The stormtrooper decided that he would slowly increase all the dials until Kastan said something intelligible. They climbed from 140 to 141, 142, 143, 144… all the way up to 160 until G5-81356 managed to speak.

"She… She… she is one of the only people of whom I can truly say I am glad to have as a friend."

"Adorable," Thrawn said. He turned from the console to see a few stormtroopers still lingering, one of them typing out the phrase 'I now ship Kabine'. "I suppose that that will be enough for one day. Bring them down to a quarter of where they are now.

The stormtrooper in charge of the dials grumbled as he adjusted the dials to the requested setting of 50 for Kastan, 40 for Sabine, and 35 for Ezra, although the trooper did occasionally spike the settings just to watch the Rebels twitch to the pain.

"This process will repeat tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, until you either reveal all your secrets, die, or swear loyalty to the Empire once and for all. Until then, I bid you goodbye," Thrawn smirked as he stalked out of the room, the present stormtroopers following suit.

Kastan groaned. "Sabine, I think they're shipping us now."

"Shipping?" Ezra echoed.

Sabine appeared floored. "Kastan. This is not okay."

The dials jumped upwards by five.

"Lovely," G5-81356 said. "They can control it remotely."

"I'm drained," Ezra complained. "I'm going to see if I can get any rest."

"You do that," G5-81356 replied, his voice slightly strained from the moderate levels of pain coursing through his body.

Ezra promptly assumed a meditative pose and was soon snoring lightly.

"I'll take first watch," Sabine said after a few minutes of glorious silence.

"Hell no," Kastan asserted. "You need your rest more than I do."

"You got it worst out of all of us. I'm taking first watch and that's final," Sabine said in an authoritarian manner.

"Fine. Wake me up in an hour," Kastan grumbled before slumping onto the ground, propped up by the pole in the middle of the room. He was, admittedly, completely exhausted by the day's events, and he welcomed the pacifying realm of sleep with open arms.

 **!0*0!**

Sabine awoke, groggily. Her blurry mind managed to pick out Kastan in front of a control panel…

Wait a minute…

Memories from what she assumed to be the previous day flooded her mind.

 _They turned him._

Two familiar groaning noises emanated from her rightward side. She turned her head, which felt awfully like it was stuffed with cotton, to see Ezra and… Kastan… just awakening inside their cells.

 _Never mind._

"Who the hell are you?" Sabine practically roared, turning a fiery gaze towards not-Kastan.

The abomination in front of her replied with a sadistic grin. "Call me… Kay ee oh one," it responded.

"Dammit," Kastan said groggily. "They cloned me."

 **OK, so I watched the end of Star Wars: Rebels, and there are a few things I've learned.**

 **1: Twi'leks and humans are sexually compatible, despite being two wholly different species from two wholly different planets.**

 **2: Jedi can survive the void of space, while certain Chiss warlords can not.**

 **3: The Emperor can spit straight fire. Literally.**

 **4: Those Separatist droids from ages ago are lazy af.**

 **5: Rex survives the the Battle of Endor, despite being grandpa-age during Rebels.**

 **6: Sabine changed her hair color at least eight times. I lost count.**

 **7: Ashoka is an priest, apparently.**

 **8: Ezra attended the School of Hiding Yourself on Some Remote Planet for No Real Reason, taught by Luke Skywalker. Or maybe vice versa, I don't know.**

 **9: Time Travel is possible, due to some random temple on some random planet existing.**

 **10: Time can be screwed over in various ways in said temple and it gives you no warning as to the repercussions of such meddlings.**

 **11: I can't tell if Kallus and Zeb are any closer than friends. Not that I really want them to, because fanfic authors would fling themselves on top of that like me with any other person remotely interested in me, but just as an EXTREMELY hypothetical question.**

 **Just wanted to get that out of the way. Also, is Ezra coming to Star Wars: Episode IX? Because Luke/Rey sure as heck isn't the Last Jedi if Ezra's alive.**

 **Quick Quality Of Life Message for all you fanfic writers who happen to read this: There is NO EXCUSE for misspelling a name. They are ALL WRITTEN DOWN IN THE CHARACTER LIST WHEN YOU CHOOSE A CHARACTER. Geez.**

 **Anyway, I hope you all have a fantabulous rest of your day. Leave a review or so help me, I'll die of not being able to improve my admittedly horrible writing.**

 **Today's soundtrack:** _ **I Remember**_ **by Les Friction. I would listen to this while reading this chapter.**


	3. iNsAnItY

**It just hit me how dark the last chapter was. I originally intended to make Chapter 2 the "Escape", but later decided against it because of the singular greatest excuse ever.**

 **I'm lazy.**

 **So there's a 99% chance that we're going to have the escape now.**

 **Not much to say here… go read the story.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't have any witty remarks about Star Wars right now, so go see the disclaimer for Chapter 2.**

Part 3: The Escape

 **!0*0!**

KE-01's grin held no happiness to it. His laconic smile was closer to the grin of someone about to inflict pain than someone genuinely content.

"Unlike Grand Admiral Brawn over there, I'm not even going to bother trying to weasel nonexistent information out of you," KE-01 stated smugly.

"Grand Admiral Brawn? Seriously?" Kastan said in a monotone fashion. "Come on, you couldn't have been more creative, like Grand Admiral Bitch'raw'nuruodo? Grand Admiral Prawn? Grand Admiral Mitth'raw'nurumalodorous?"

"I can already tell we're going to get along just great," KE-01 drawled. "Vader's ordered me to not kill you all, so I'll settle with inflicting as much pain as physically possible."

"Then again, it's Bananakin. Who cares what he thinks?" Kastan said, shrugging.

"Bananakin?" Sabine echoed.

Ezra didn't bother to demean that with a comment.

"I do," the newer clone said, a hideous amalgamation of faux hurt gracing his features. That hurt soon morphed into a glare of true hatred as KE-01 waved his hand over the three Rebels.

They braced themselves for pain, but none came.

They got fear instead.

Ezra and Sabine clutched their heads, unable to ward off the demons suddenly hounding for their flesh and blood. The sheer paranoia of the moment was incomprehensible. Kastan, on the other hand, was comparatively unaffected, although a few thin lines of sweat began to cascade from his body towards the floor of his cramped cell.

KE-01 growled before turning a hundred and eighty degrees, towards the dials behind him. With a minute wave of his left hand, the dial attributed to G5-81356 spun upwards 200 units. Kastan let out an involuntary groan of torment as his veins filled with explosive pain. In some form of twisted mercy, the dark side clone released the other two Rebels from his Forcehold on their minds, and directed their faces towards G5-81356. At the same time, KE-01 steadily increased the other clone's dial at an ever-increasing rate. A look of maddened, sadistic glee covered his angular features.

To his credit, he managed to stop himself at 667.

Life for the other clone right about now must have been absolute _torment_. Good thing it wasn't his problem at all. As they say, out with the old, in with the new.

Biting back regret, KE-01 reached out and drew back all the dials to 30. G5-81356 crumpled to the floor, occasionally convulsing to the memory of pain, but overall, manageable.

The Sith Clone's eyes scanned the three Rebels until they settled on Sabine Wren. His gaze lasted a little longer on her features, gleefully taking the sight of the three Rebels. Already, they looked like death; hair plastered to their skulls by the cruel combination of heat and suffering, complexions pale, and what "excessive" clothing they had was removed, leaving the trio in less form-concealing garments.

"Okay," the Sith Clone's voice emanated. "I want you with me, you to go to Thrawn, and we can throw you in the trash compactor for all I care." He pointed in rapid succession towards Sabine, Kastan, and Ezra.

Right then, the door opened to admit GRG-892.

"KE-01, on orders directly from Grand Admiral Thrawn, you are to revoke that order immediately," he said.

The Sith sulked. "Fine," he grunted, stalking out of the room.

The Stormtrooper Commander turned to the three in the cells. "Sorry about that. KE-01 can be a bit… depraved at times. Very."

Kastan's eyes immediately fixed themselves on Sabine for a moment before turning away. "He said he wanted Sabine with him, me with Thrawn, and to throw Ezra into the trash compactor," he clarified.

George cringed. "Yeah, he does that. It's part of the reason why I stepped in in the first place. You know, it's funny, because technically he's a clone of you, so you two shouldn't be that different."

"Lucky me, then," Kastan exclaimed, just a hint of a blush forming on his sharp features.

"So he really was a clone of you," Sabine whispered.

"Hate to say it, but yes," Kastan ascertained.

"We're going to have to start calling you KE-00 now that the new model's come out," George stated nonchalantly.

Kastan blanched and immediately turned towards Sabine and Ezra. The latter was asleep, somehow, but the former certainly wasn't.

"What do you mean by KE-00?" She inquired.

"Yeah, Kas is low-key a Sith Clone, too," George stated.

"To be fair, I only learned about a week ago. You know, when the Emperor cut off my leg and stopped my arm from working," the amputee said sheepishly.

The murderous look on Sabine's face melted at the statement to reveal a more neutral one. "Tell me. What exactly was so awful that KE-01 was going to do…" she asked, before immediately realizing.

"Well, did you want to lose your v-" George started, a wry grin spreading across his face.

"George. No. We're **not** talking about that," Kastan interrupted hotly.

Said trooper shrugged. "Okay, alright, fi-"

George was interrupted by the door opening once more. He expected to see KE-01's hulking figure, or Thrawn's haunting silhouette, but what he got instead was much more relaxing.

T3-M4.

Before GRG-892 had time to react, T3-M4 fired a stunning shot, incapacitating the stormtrooper commander. The door closed behind the tripod-esque droid, and it quickly set to work sealing the door shut.

"Ah, T3," Kastan mused, "never stop pulling off miracles."

The droid beeped arrogantly in response.

 **!0*0!**

The Ghost landed on Chopper Base, Atollon, escorted in by the remainder of Phoenix Squadron. A few of the stationed Rebels there went out to greet them.

"How'd the mission go?" inquired Wedge Antilles.

"Good news and bad news," Zeb stated. "Good news is that we have the location of the Star Forge. Bad news is that in order to get us the info, Sabine, Ezra, and Kas were captured by the Empire."

"Addition: You forgot the part about the disruptor field surrounding the Star Forge itself, making a direct attack nigh impossible," HK added.

"That, too. Someone's going to have to go ahead of time and shut down that disruptor field," Hera acknowledged. "And we're going to need everyone we can get for when the shields go down.

"So who's with me?"

Most of Phoenix Squadron, eager to do something of use, raised their fists in alliance.

"Okay. So how are we going to get that shield down?" Wedge asked.

"We're going to need expendable ships," Hera decided, "and speedy ones too. I motion for a smaller group of elites that will deliberately crashland onto the singular planet in the system, which is where we believe the signal is coming from."

"Interjection: Your assumption would be correct," HK interjected.

Hera ignored the assassin droid. "Kanan will go with us, as he's best at triangulating any warped Force energy. HK will go with us because he knows the territory best. We shouldn't need too many more than that; maybe ten, fifteen more people?"

"Quick question," a random pilot asked. "If we do this, how are we supposed to get off-planet? All our instruments will be completely shot by the disruptor field!"

"Answer: That is true, meatbag. However, as I remember, this planet is a technological graveyard, stuffed with a plethora of technological equipment. With those, a skilled engineer could easily repair the ships."

"Gotcha," the pilot said, stepping back.

"It'll probably take a rotation or so to amass the fleet," Wedge stated, gesticulating.

"Alright, let's get started," Hera said with an air of finality.

The small crowd dispersed, to complete the necessary calculations to get to the Star Forge.

 **!0*0!**

A group of four stormtroopers casually strolled out of the detention block. One of them was on a stretcher.

"This had better work, T3," the stormtrooper in front whispered.

T3-M4, expertly disguised as a support tripod for the stretcher, said nothing, truly a master of the masquerade.

"Don't say anything that might alert anyone to this," the stormtrooper in the back replied in a hushed tone.

"Remember the plan: LRY-554 was severely injured in a malfunction in the detention block. I, commander GRG-892, ordered you two to bring him to Manaan to recuperate, as he's one of our best. And by the way, your names are GRG-687 and MTW-435," George said to the two stormtroopers. "And don't worry about your things. I'll get them back to you, okay?"

"Yes, sir," they replied.

George pointed out a vessel currently loading with troopers. "That one's heading towards Manaan. Hop on, and I'll coerce the loading officers."

"Hold it right there," said officer barked. "We weren't notified of… this."

"Well, honestly, neither were we. I ordered them to keep an eye on our Rebel prisoners, and something there malfunctioned. I don't know how, but something exploded, and it severely injured LRY-554. He's one of my best, so I requisitioned GRG-687 and MTW-435 to escort him planetside. Last I checked, they were still in there, but I put the _Vanguard_ under heightened security just in case they tried something."

A twinge of doubt surged across the officer's face. "I didn't hear an explosion, sir."

"To be fair, neither did I. The feeds on the detention blocks shorted out, and I went over to check on it myself. I saw the aftermath and ordered LRY-554 planetside for recuperation."

"It's a bit unusual, but I'll accept it," the officer replied, settling back into a more relaxed posture and demeanor. He waved the 'troopers' into the shuttle.

The shuttle left the Star Destroyer Vanguard, and rocketed into interstellar hyperspace. It was at this strategic point that Ezra and Sabine enacted their master plans of killing everyone, which took much longer than usual due to the lack of viable weapons at their disposal. Sabine took the controls and swiftly pulled out of hyperspace over the watery world of Manaan.

"Back here," Kastan whispered. "Where most of this insanity started. Where I lost everything, and gained but a new Star Map in return."

"What?" Ezra asked. "Oh. _Oh._ Sabine, we should probably regroup at Chopper Base with the others."

"And skip out on healing G- Kastan? No kriffing way," Sabine asserted.

"In all honesty, I don't care anymore," Kastan said softly, feeling utterly defeated.

"It's been proven that having more living matter is directly proportional to a stronger connection to the Force," Sabine pushed. "You should know that."

"Do we not have bacta back at Chopper Base?" Ezra replied.

"Not enough to treat… this," Sabine answered.

"Besides, we need a kolto permit. We don't have one of those," Ezra continued. "Better to hook him up to a bionic leg and lose a bit of Force Power than cause even more pain for him when he tries to get his leg healed and ultimately fails."

Kastan, with slight difficulty, levered himself out of his seat and began poking around the cabin.

"Maybe so, but we can't just leave him like that!" Sabine argued. "Think about what it's going to do for his morale! How this will affect how he performs!"

"That, and I found a kolto permit," Kastan added helpfully, holding up a small rectangular plastic card.

Sabine smirked in triumph.

"But on the other hand, I could use a kyber crystal to give a bionic limb the ability to channel the Force…" Kastan said slyly.

Now it was Ezra's turn to grin in superiority.

"Let's leave that as a second option if the bacta doesn't work," Sabine concluded.

"Hello? Shuttle X1-G7Q8? Do you read?" a distinctively Selkath voice emanated.

"Ahto City, this is Shuttle X1-G7Q8, we're reading you loud and clear," Ezra said.

"Please submit your fleet designation and codes, and we will give you temporary access to our shuttle bays."

"Of course," Ezra said amicably. "Sabine, could you send those real quick?"

"You make me do everything around here," the Mandalorian mock grumbled before doing as ordered.

"Shuttle X1-G7Q8, you will be directed to Bay C0R. Please enjoy your stay on Manaan," the Selkath said before cutting the transmission.

"Bay C0R, huh? Alright," Ezra said softly before bringing his newfound ship to those coordinates.

 **!0*0!**

The _Vanguard_ was in full lockdown on the discovery that prisoners G5-81356, Sabine Wren, and Ezra Bridger had managed to escape the Detention block, and even more so when they realized that their armaments were missing from the armory. The only exception to this was G5-81356's lightsaber, oddly enough. Commander GRG-892 offered the lightsaber to KE-01, but was shocked when he refused.

KE-01's justification was that the weapon "felt off. Whenever I tried to grab it, the thing just started screaming in my head, and it got annoying."

Even more paranoia had ensued when a squadron mistook KE-01 for G5-81356, and the Sith Clone had decided that being mistaken for the Insurgent and fired upon with nonlethals was a good enough cause to slaughter every last one of them with Force Lightning, even the ones who didn't open fire. The enmity between Grand Admiral Thrawn and KE-01 continued to grow more volatile; the only thing keeping the two from engaging in a full-scale war was the calming presence of Commander GRG-892. Of course, when push came to shove, he would side with Grand Admiral Thrawn; he had too much respect for the Chiss warlord.

KE-01 growled softly. GRG-892 tensed, expecting another rage-fueled rant.

"Dammit. I can't sense their Force energies anywhere on this ship," the Sith Clone grunted.

"That would mean that… they're off the ship already," GRG-892 whispered in faux astonishment.

"Either that, or they've locked themselves back up in their onnsium cell. Why they'd do that is beyond me."

"I would agree that regressing to their holding cell would be moronic in the extreme," Thrawn said curtly.

"So that leaves off the _Vanguard_ ," George concluded. "They would have to have escaped before the lockdown… which means they had inside help. Another member of Phoenix Squadron, or maybe an mole, must have unlocked their cell, broken into the armory to get their armor, and then somehow smuggled them off the _Vanguard_ immediately after the explosion."

"What explosion?" KE-01 grunted aggressively.

"There was a malfunction in the detention blocks just before the Rebels escaped," George explained. "At least, we thought it was a malfunction. It could have been a thermal detonator, come to think of it… anyway, it shorted out the video system in the cells. When I got there to see what had happened, the rebels were still in there. I ordered the injured troopers in the room at the time to Manaan to recuperate, so it would have happened in between the ten minutes that the cameras were down.

"So what we need to know is which starships left the complex in that time, and where they were going."

"If I recall properly, there were two vessels that left the _Vanguard_ at the time," Thrawn continued. "One was heading to Vjun to drop off the troopers there, and the other was headed to Coruscant to quell an uprising there."

"They didn't go to Vjun," KE-01 decided.

"Why not?" GRG-892 asked.

"Because I say so," the clone growled. "Don't question my methods."

"We could ask the Emperor or Darth Vader if they sensed the Rebels entering Coruscant," George said. "They certainly know the Force signature of KE-00."

"KE-00?" KE-01 echoed.

"It's less of a mouthful than G5-81356," George reasoned, shrugging.

"I will inform the Emperor of these… developments," Thrawn announced before retreating from the bridge, out of sight.

A short silence ensued before GRG-892 turned on his heel and calmly strutted out of the bridge.

He left KE-01 in the bridge, to fantasize every delectable moment of slitting G5-81356's throat.

 **!0*0!**

The shuttle landed, and as soon as the door opened, the Rebel trio strolled out, each dressed in Imperial standard-issue armor. Each of the two on the outside had their inner arms wrapped around the one in the middle, who had a significant limp.

"I'm so tempted to rip this helmet off my head and finally feel the wind and sun," Kastan grumbled.

"Got to keep face. The Selkath'll take it off for you in no time," Sabine promised.

The trio progressed down the bay corridors, towards central Ahto City. Soon enough, they came to a small, circular room, occupied by one Selkath who they assumed was the port authority.

"Welcome to Manaan," the Selkath said in their native language. "In the name of the Ahto City regulations board, we will have to requisition 200 credits to keep our ship bays running."

"Of course," Kastan answered, forking over a credstick.

"Two rules: carrying unprocessed kolto without a permit is punishable by death, and keep the peace. The Empire's embassy is towards the west, that's where I assume you'll be going. Have a pleasant stay."

"We will," Kastan replied amicably before hobbling out of the room. "Thank you."

"Hold on a minute…" Ezra stated once they were out of earshot of the port authority.

"What's happening?" Sabine asked.

"In order to heal Kastan, they're going to have to declothe him," Ezra said. "Since all the stormtroopers are clones… I think they'd notice that he's definitely _not_ a clone."

Sabine thought for a moment. "You're right."

"Easy solution: Go to the Rebel's HQ," Kastan asked. "They'll be more than happy to assist."

"When we left the planet, the Selkath weren't exactly happy to see them," Sabine said. "But we could take a look."

The trio quickly turned east, towards the Rebellion quarter of Manaan.

 **!0*0!**

The escape pod exited hyperspace above the deserted world of Atollon. The gravity of the planet below tugged the miniscule pod down, creating a fiery red glow as it descended through the atmosphere. The pod hit the planet, spewing forth sand and grit around the crash site. A group of rebels was dispatched to investigate. The pod looked innocuous enough, just a standard Empire escape pod. When the group opened it, however, they were shocked to find an assortment of clothing, armor, and weaponry that had once been used by Kastan, Ezra, and Sabine. There was also an ominous note, that simply read:

 _You're welcome. They're alive._

 _-The Untitled_

No other reference from this _Untitled_ person was ever made again. There was a blessing and a curse; reclaiming their own armaments was a definite plus, but a startling undertone of knowing that the Empire, or at least someone in it, knew where they were.

 **!0*0!**

The group swiftly boarded the Star Destroyer _Vanguard_ , more or less undetected. They were clothed in simple, blackened garments that seemed to meld into the shadows when they weren't in motion. Each had a short sword clipped inconspicuously to their belts.

Each had been called here, by one of their most treasured artifacts. Indeed, it was just beyond this door.

A door flanked by stormtroopers.

The group steadily flanked the troopers until they were face to face with their leader.

"You will open this door for us," one of them said, waving their hand.

"I will open this door for you," the captain repeated.

"You will not report this to the higher-ups."

"I will not report this to the higher-ups."

"You are to reroute your stormtroopers to another area immediately."

"I will reroute my stormtroopers to another area immediately," the trooper echoed before waving his crew towards another door.

"That was easy," one of the cloaked figures stated.

The leader snorted in amusement. She approached the door controls, unsheathed her sword, and jammed it into the controls. A few moments later, the controls changed to a friendly green, before the heavy metal door began to slide open.

Beyond the door stood KE-01, crimson lightsaber in hand. His eyes narrowed into slits.

"Grandmaster!" A few of the cloaked figures exclaimed, quickly kneeling in reverence.

"Off your knees," the leader said. "That's not the Grandmaster."

The cloaked figures quirked their eyebrows."

"The Grandmaster doesn't have a red lightsaber. Nor would he ally himself with the Empire. Besides, the Force flows completely different around this one than the Grandmaster."

They nodded in understanding.

"Okay, I don't know who the hell you think you are," KE-01 stated gruffly, "but I'm going to kill you dead."

He extended his non dominant arm towards the group. Unlike with his previous usages of the fear-inducing technique, almost all of them were able to resist it with relative ease. Shifting into a comfortable Djem So stance, KE-01 faced the group of True Light disciplines.

Then all hell broke loose.

A full squadron of stormtroopers burst through the blast doors from all directions. The True Light Force-wielders expertly dodged the blaster fire, although the ones currently suffering from KE-01's fear were easily gunned down.

Five of the figures advanced on KE-01, screaming war cries as they fell on him. In response, KE-01 ripped the blades off of the fallen True Light warriors with the Force and used them to defend himself as he wreaked havoc with his scarlet saber.

Many of the True Light fell, but the _Vanguard_ was slowly being drained of its resources. In the chaos, one of the younger True Light disciples managed to slip by KE-01 and into the small room. Grappling for the object of his desires, the youth grasped the lightsaber.

Revan's azure lightsaber.

Making sure to stay absolutely silent, the disciple stalked towards the offending Sith Clone. When he was just out of range of the Sith's flying blades, he charged, hurling the lightsaber forward into KE-01's exposed neck.

The Sith died unceremoniously, emitting slight gurgling noises as his life ebbed away. The battle around him stopped, True Light and Empire alike stopping to witness the Sith titan fall.

And fall he did.

Before anyone could react, the True Light stalked out of the room and back towards their ship, lightsaber in hand.

"Shit," Commander GRG-892 stated. Never had there been a more accurate one-word statement to sum up a situation.

An Imperial shuttle exited hyperspace a few miles from the star destroyer.

"Hail it," GRG-892 commanded.

"Yes, sir.

"Shuttle T6-A1Y9, this is the Star Destroyer Vanguard, do you read?"

"Star Destroyer Vanguard, this is Shuttle T6-A1Y9, we read you loud and clear," the voice on the other end replied. It sounded a lot like that of KE-01 and the Insurgent…

"Fifty credits says it's the next KE-01, and this one's even worse," one stormtrooper whispered to another.

"Deal!" the other replied.

 **!0*0!**

There was silence as the trio of 'troopers' slowly traveled east, further and further away from Empire-controlled territory. They got a few dirty looks from what they assumed to be Rebel sympathizers, but were more or less ignored.

They had soon reached the heart of Rebellion territory, and indeed, right in front of them was the Rebellion Headquarters.

"Here we are," Sabine said.

"You think I don't know that or something?" Kastan replied sarcastically.

Neither of the others bothered to respond. "This is significantly less… busy than I thought it would be."

"I think it had something to do with the base that you were in," Ezra reasoned. "That was probably illegal to the Selkath."

Kastan shrugged. The door to the Rebellion Embassy slid open with a hideous creak to reveal dank walls and harsh, bright lights.

"Well," Ezra said, "this looks different indeed."

No accursed metal detector blared at their arrival. The whole atmosphere seemed so… dismal.

"Empire scum," a Selkath commented.

Kastan quirked an eyebrow. Of course, nobody saw that, as his head was concealed by the emotionless stormtrooper mask.

"Mutrao, come on. They might be defects," a human in Rebellion attire chastised.

"Ha! Likely. Remember GRG-892? Yeah, he was _totally_ a defect. I don't care what Hsiu would say; she's not in power anymore, remember?"

"We're not defects," Ezra argued. "Hell, we aren't even stormtroopers!"

"Then explain the attire," the Selkath- Mutrao - retorted smugly.

"We were recently captured by the Empire," Sabine explained. "This one got the worst of it, by far. And don't you dare argue with me," she said, gesticulating towards Kastan's body still leaning heavily on her shoulder. "Like, we're talking full-on amputation. Anyway, we managed to escape somehow, and we're only wearing these to keep up the guise."

"That, and all our other possessions are still on the Star Destroyer we escaped from," Ezra added.

Mutrao squinted. "I'm not buying it."

He slowly stalked towards the body slung along the Mandalorian's shoulders and ripped off the helmet, revealing Kastan's gaunt, ashen face.

"I remember you. You were the unconscious kid Vader was parading around like some sort of mutilated comatose human balloon. Brenda's sister, right?"

Kastan nodded mutely.

"I'll take him," the Selkath said, motioning towards the True Light paragon.

The transfer was made successfully, if a bit awkwardly, and Mutrao marched Kastan to the nearest bacta tank to recuperate.

"Ever since Hsiu was more or less booted out, the Selkath have been giving us less and less kolto to work with. Probably as recompense for the kolto we got from Hrakert Rift, I guess. Given Kastan's sheer number of grievous wounds, I doubt we'll be able to spare enough kolto to completely heal him."

"Give us the rundown," Sabine pushed.

"Well, his lower spinal cord seems to have been shattered and then regrafted, somehow. The work looks like it was done under terrible conditions by amateurs, but it seems to have held up rather nicely. That's not to say he's safe, though, as from the looks of it, that could shatter any second now. He's also got an amputated leg, has lost way too much blood to be healthy, has more bruised skin than normal skin, has insomnia, is for some reason completely dependant on alanine, and has a hole in his upper arm. All the wounds seem to have been cauterized, which was a god-send, but now kind of a curse, because it's harder to heal. Compared to normal blood levels, his blood has too much plain old plasma. His breathing seems to be slightly more difficult than last time I saw him. The kid has some kind of psuedo-hero complex in development, at least one cracked rib, lacking in at least seventy-five percent of his needed vitamins, and finally, needs a damn nap," Mutrao ranted.

"So what are we going to be able to fix now?" Ezra demanded.

"If we ration out all the available kolto that isn't going straight to the front, we'll be able to heal the spinal cord, fix up the ratios in his blood system, grant him the vitamins he needs, the breathing, and the cauterization. Unfortunately, kolto can't heal mental maladies, so we should be glad he doesn't have PTSD at this point. That leaves us with the arm, the tiredness, the alanine deficiency, and the hero complex, which we won't have enough kolto to fix, or won't be able to rectify due to the nature of kolto and bacta," Mutrao finished.

"How long is this going to take?" Sabine inquired.

"About…" the Selkath made some unbelievably complex calculations with his fingers. "Six to eight hours."

Sabine blanched. "Six to eight?"

"My bad, I meant six to eighteen," Mutrao corrected.

"That still doesn't help us," Ezra drawled.

"Hey, better to have pessimistic but accurate numbers as opposed to optimistic but inaccurate numbers, right?" the selkath said wryly.

 **!0*0!**

The procedure took ten hours to complete. Sabine and Ezra took the time to heal their own wounds, both physical and mental. They managed to contact Hera at Chopper Base to explain the situation, of which the pilot was surprisingly lenient with. In all honesty, they were just content to have the full Phoenix Squadron still alive and not in the Empire's dastardly clutches.

When Kastan exited the inner echelons of the Rebel Base, re-suited in stormtrooper armor, the other two Rebels perked up from whatever they were doing.

"Kas, no offense or anything, but you kind of look like shit," Ezra stated bluntly.

Sabine wasted no time in slapping him.

"Honestly, I feel like shit," Kastan admitted. "On second thought, scratch that, I don't feel anything like shit. Not quite used to having two legs again. Left arm's still shot, though, so it's not all fine. How long was I out for?"

"Ten hours," Sabine answered.

Kastan blanched. "Ten _hours_?" Operation's due for, like, early tomorrow! We can chat later, on the shuttle. We have to go, like, _now_."

The True Light paragon wasted no time in dashing towards the door.

"Kastan, calm down," Sabine persuaded, grasping Kastan's arm. "You said it yourself, Operation's only due for early tomorrow. On standard galactic time, it's, like, midnight. That gives us… eighteen whole hours or so until the Star Forge has to go down."

Kastan froze. He exhaled. "Fine. Let's go. Thanks for everything, Mutrao."

"Don't mention it," the Selkath replied. "Good luck on whatever it is that you're doing!"

The trio casually strolled out the door of the Rebel Headquarters, into their shuttle, and back to Chopper Base, to fulfill the rest of their mission.

 **!0*0!**

 **I feel like those little gremlings from The Wizard of Oz; "Ho, ho! The KE-01 is Dead!"**

 **No regrets.**

 **Anyway, that was part three of Star Wars: Retribution. Please, if you want to critique something, ask me a question, or just give me some constructive feedback, leave me a review or PM, and everything will be hunky dory. I will attempt to answer any question you may have as quickly as possible in the next installment, or by simply PMing you back.**

 **But srsly, leave a review. SW:R has no reviews whatsoever, and SW:I only has one. I need moar reviews!**


	4. Let the Chaos Commence

**You know, I'm kind of sad right now. I thought this was going to get at least a little bit more attention. I'm tempted to move this into the regular Star Wars section, as a non-crossover fic. So if SW:I and SW:R suddenly disappear from SW &SW crossover, then they've gone into just the movie section. Go find them there.**

 **That being said, 22 people have read this fanfiction from the start of April to April 4th. So if you all could kindly leave a review stating what you think, ask a question, or just want to state something, that would do wonders to boost my reader numbers (and my ego).**

 **DISCLAIMER: If I owned Star Wars, I would use my vast fortune to start a full-scale war against any and all Trekkies that may exist. (I mean, not really, but you get the jist.)**

 **!0*0!**

The ramp descended, and out stepped no one but an exact replica of KE-01, appearance shrouded in the fine mist of the escaping air.

"KE-02, I assume. Consider it a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Thrawn spoke, his voice sharp enough to cut lead. His arm sprang forth, an open palm facing perfectly perpendicular to the new Sith Clone. KE-02 glanced at it once, and slowly raised his own hand to grasp that of the Chiss general, firmly.

"Please," KE-02 replied. "I believe the pleasure is all mine."

"And you're already an improvement over KE-01," GRG-892 stated. "That one was hardly one for formality."

"Ah, yes, I believe I heard of the entity of which you speak, this KE-01," KE-02 said. "So often have I been compared to him, and every time, people found my company far superior."

"It would appear that the ego remained," Thrawn noted.

"Apparently, it's a side effect of the accelerated Sith training the KE models get," KE-02 explained. "Or at least, that's what I've been told."

"And how deep _is_ that Sith training?" GRG-892 asked.

"Surprisingly basic," the Sith replied curtly. "Certainly not enough to deal with the… incursion that just happened here."

"Oh, that reminds me," George interjected, his features sparkling. "Grand Admiral, you're going to love this one.

"I noticed that one of our escape pods was missing. Presumably, the Insurgent, and the other two _rebels_ used it to escape with their armaments. Lucky for us, we just updated our escape pods to send SOS signals through the hyperspace medium, to make search and rescue missions a lot easier."

George paused for breath. "As soon as we get a signal from any escape pods SOS-ing, we'll easily be able to triangulate the location of the Rebels. The broadcast only shows in the Empire's own encrypted system, so they won't even notice. We could easily take their base, and crush the willpower of the survivors."

"I like the way you think," KE-02 smirked. "Tell me when we get the SOS. I'll call KE-03 and KE-04 and get them in on this. Easier to kill any Jedi, no?"

"Our orders are to capture them, KE-02," Thrawn chastised. "I don't believe that you don't know that."

KE-02 shrugged. "It was worth a shot. I'll cancel calling the others, but if they aren't going to submit, can I at least have permission to maim and/or dismember them?"

Thrawn smirked evilly. "Consider the maiming granted."

 **!0*0!**

The small, erstwhile Empire shuttle exited hyperspace above the Rebel outpost at Atollon. A small party of X-wings flew from the planet to escort the starship onto the base. The ship landed unceremoniously, but it was greeted with positive fanfare as the ramp of the shuttle hissed open to admit its pilots; T3-M4, Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger, and of course, Kastan Enderbeck. The fanfare died down exponentially as the last one casually strolled off the brig, left arm clearly injured beyond even the sheer healing power of kolto.

The remainder of Phoenix Squadron practically sprinted towards the overall landing site to reunite with the remainder of their own.

"While it is great that all of you are back, I want each and every one of you to explain what happened. Especially you, Kastan," Hera stated.

"I've done more esoteric explanations over the last few weeks than in the other twenty years of my life," Kastan said exasperatedly.

The ensemble of the _Ghost_ 's crew stared at him in disdain.

"Alright, alright, fine," Kastan relented. "It's going to be a really long story, so… get comfortable.

"So I drop Brenda off on Anoat and fly over to Dantooine. Or at least, I was _supposed_ to fly to Dantooine, but the Empire decided to pull me out of hyperspace over Manaan. Vader and his cohorts shot me down onto Manaan, just a few miles off of Ahto City, I believe. Anyway, HK so politely informed me that, surprise! Our escape pods don't have flotation devices! So we sink to the ocean floor. Luckily for us, we got picked up by Shelkar and her team and brought to their underwater facility that we all know and hate. I, uh… may or may not have overused the Force and passed out. During that time, a defective stormtrooper requests work on the underwater base in exchange for protection against the Empire, and Hsiu Wann so graciously agreed. HK, predictably, threw a hissy fit when he found out-"

"Interjection: I would hardly call my JUSTIFIED paranoia a 'hissy fit', master," HK-47 interrupted.

"... and when I wake up, I more or less get inducted into Shelkar's research team. We uncover the Star Map at the bottom of the ocean, and I beamed it to Ezra later. Of course, the morons in Command decide that firing upon the Progenitor is a GREAT idea because it had Daniel, but that wasn't such a good idea, because all the Selkath in the facility developed an insatiable bloodlust and killed everything in sight. Our research team made it back in one piece, thankfully, but then everyone but Shelkar, the defective stormtrooper, and me were promptly eaten alive by the insane Selkath. We manage to survive for a few days, until our water gets siphoned, which is when Shelkar and I leave the base to get some more. To make matters even worse. Darth Vader decides to attack us at that exact moment, and I almost kill him…

"Then I get shot in the back by the defective stormtrooper, who apparently wasn't very defective at all. I get captured by the Empire, but HK, T3, and Shelkar were able to escape. You picked them up just before leaving.

"I'm brought to Coruscant to meet with the Emperor himself. It's there that I finally figure out why the hell they want me alive so badly; apparently, my genetic code is really valuable to them, because they can make Force-sensitive clones. Ironically, they called it the KE-class.

"Anyway, I also get myself stabbed in the left arm, which, because of my other injuries, was unable to be fixed by kolto. Then Thrawn moves me to the Star Destroyer _Vanguard_ so he and his second in command, GRG-892, can keep an eye on me. Not that they would need to, as my cell was laced with onnsium."

Ezra and Kanan nodded in understanding. To a Jedi, onnsium was one of the most hated substances in the galaxy. By this time, most of the Rebel force on Atollon had gathered around to listen to the tale.

"Anyway, it's not long after that that I meet up with Ezra and Sabine, who were captured whilst collecting the last Star Map on Dantooine. Thrawn tortures us for information, of which I don't think we gave away… We also meet up with one of my clones, KE-01. Bloody psychopath takes pleasure in ensuring that I'm in as much pain as humanly possible. Anyway, GRG-892 helps us escape, because he realizes that when the Force-sensitive clones start to come forth en masse, there will be no reason for stormtroopers such as himself to exist. We head to Manaan, and heal most of my wounds, but not all, as evidenced by this thing."

"You left out some parts," Sabine pointed out.

"They weren't important," Kastan replied. He shot her a look that screamed _I'll talk to you later._ "Well, that's my side of the story. Hera, Zeb, Kanan, HK, I would implore you to tell us all about what you were doing during our escapades."

"Let's see. You left just before the second mission to the third moon of Concord Dawn," Hera recounted. "So you missed… us getting the Darksaber-"

"You got the Darksaber?!" Sabine exclaimed. "How-"

"We can worry about that later," Kastan said placatingly. "Please continue, Hera."

"We raided an Imperial shuttle, investigated Geonosis and met with the last Geonosian, and figured out that Maul is back on Tatooine. Other than that, not much."

"Addition: You forgot about the Imperial droid that tried to infiltrate our base," HK supplied. "Statement: I shot it before it could send a transmission."

"And that," Zeb acknowledged.

"I see you didn't attack the Star Forge," Kastan noted. "Good hindsight, HK."

"Statement: I try my best, master," the assassin droid said proudly.

Seeing that the conversation was over, much of the small crowd dispersed to continue their own preparations for the assault on the Star Forge.

"You really ought to train with the Darksaber," Kastan mused.

"Well, duh," Sabine replied with a hint of contempt.

"Kastan, Ezra, and I could train you," Kanan offered.

"Sounds… good."

 **!0*0!**

Kastan settled into a simple Makashi stance, glancing out towards the three lightsaber-wielders in front of him. Sabine had made excellent progress in the last hour or so of practicing with the Darksaber, but Kanan had refused to actually let her use it, our of fear of her being seriously wounded. It was time to recreate the fervor of the actual battle. To simulate an actual lightsaber battle, Kastan had Ezra, Kanan, and Sabine fight against him, limp arm and all.

Silence flooded the plains. Then there was motion as the three flung themselves at him. Ezra attempted a low chop at Kastan's feet, which the True Light paragon deftly jumped over. However, Kanan then charged and used Ezra as a springboard to leap further towards Kastan. To his chagrin, Kastan only barely managed to dodge Kanan's stabbing motion by pushing himself into the air with the Force. Sabine was nowhere in sight.

A blaster bolt dove across the ubiquitous plains. Seeing the source to be Sabine, Kastan redirected the bolt towards Ezra, who was forced to stop his attack to deflect the bolt, and dashed across the field towards the Mandalorian. Seeing the True Light Grandmaster fast approaching, Sabine threw her gun to the side, activated her Darksaber, and charged. She stopped, however, when Kastan used the Force to throw her into the floor. Seeing his steel blade swiftly arcing towards her, she pulled her wooden staff into a perpendicular position to block. They remained locked like this for but a moment before Kastan abruptly backed off. Sabine was confused for a moment, but then understood. Kastan only had one arm at his disposal. She could easily overpower him with brute force. Screaming a mandalorian war cry, she rushed forward to keep the True Light paragon on the defensive.

Ezra scrambled to join the fray. Before he could do so, Kanan halted him by clamping his hand down over her shoulder.

"This is the true test," Kanan explained.

Shrugging, Ezra stepped back to enjoy the spectacle.

Sabine lashed her staff into a horizontal slice, which Kastan easily danced around. Kastan attempted to retaliate with a stab towards the Mandalorian's midsection, but Sabine easily swung her staff across her body and knocked Kastan's short sword out of his hands. Thinking quickly, Kastan pushed Sabine away from him with the Force before using the Force to retrieve his staff before it clattered back to Atollon's ground. The fight remained a stalemate for some time, each party attempting to exploit an opening, but failing. Then Sabine remembered something, and smirked evilly. She raised her arm, hand outstretched, in Kastan's direction. Perplexed by the motion, Kastan stood still in an attempt to decipher what was going on. Grinning even wider, Sabine activated the Force repulsor hidden within her Mandalorian braces. Not expecting the move, Kastan was promptly launched a solid twenty meters and landed on his face.

"You know, those will only get you so far," Kastan's voice emanated. But it wasn't from in front of her… but rather, from behind. "They might save your life from time to time, but god help you if you start to depend on them. Only true discipline and order, garnered with blood and sweat from years of training, can anything truly be accomplished in the long term."

Sabine whirled around, and for a split second, she saw Kastan, practically bemused, but as soon as she saw it, he disappeared.

Kastan's stick materialized but a few inches from her neck, and she could tell that his torso was directly behind hers.

"I could kill you as easily as plucking an apple from a tree," Kastan said smugly before releasing her. "Frankly, if I were you, I'd go back to the Empire; you'd do more good for us there than here."

If looks could kill, Kastan would be stuck in the ninth circle of hell. He hoped to god Kanan's idea would work.

"Well, excuse me if I can't spar with a lightsaber I've never touched within an hour, KE-00!" Sabine spat.

"KE-00?" Kanan echoed.

"Well, you pick everything else up so damn quickly, why not this?" Kastan replied coldly. "You only like what comes easy to you, don't you?"

"That's NOT true!" Sabine retaliated. "And for your information, I left the Empire because I wasn't exactly content with laying waste to the sanctity of the galaxy! But of course, _you_ wouldn't know that, would you?"

Kastan's eyes narrowed into slits. "I think I know more than you do, given who and _what_ I am."

Sabine noticed a hint of pain pass over his features before it regressed into a state of cold fury. Deciding this argument was fruitless, she turned on her heel and stormed towards a nearby cave to regain her composure.

A silent second passed.

"I hope you realize just how much I hate you right now, Kanan," Kastan stated, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Don't worry about it. Everything is going according to plan right about now," Kanan reassured.

"You keep telling yourself that, Kanan," Kastan replied, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice before it faded back into a monotone, indistinguishable murmur.

"Besides, you know you agreed with me," the blind Jedi smirked.

"Only on the flaws that need to be rectified," Kastan retorted. "Not on how to inform her of said flaws. At least let her use the Darksaber, dammit! At this point, not using the real thing is hurting her more than using the Darksaber ever could!"

Seeing that a full-blown argument was about to erupt between the two experienced Force-users, Ezra stealthily stalked away, following Sabine to the cave she escaped into.

 **!0*0!**

"Kanan's always been a rough teacher," Ezra explained. "He means well, though. He just doesn't want you to get yourself hurt."

"Oh, does he," Sabine replied coldly. "And Kastan? As much as you like… him… he certainly didn't train you."

"Kanan kind of told him to piss you off," Ezra revealed. "But I think he meant everything he said about what needed to be fixed."

"I know how to fight," Sabine insisted. "I just never wanted everything that came with the Darksaber."

"What do you mean by that?"

"The Darksaber is a serious Mandalorian symbol," Sabine explained. "This means a lot to my people, more than any of you could understand. And since this is me… That makes for a lot of problems."

"Then make me understand."

"As I think you already know, my family sided with the Empire when they first came to Mandalore. Because of that, I ended up being shipped off to the Imps and… built some of the wrong things. Things that may or may not have totally lead to the Imperial takeover of Mandalore. Ever since then, House Wren has seen me as some sort of pariah; I lack the prestige needed to even think about wielding something as precious as the Darksaber."

"At least you have family you can go back to. Not like me, not like Kas," Ezra reminded. "Think about that."

Ezra left the cave and ventured into the dark and starry night.

 **!0*0!**

"All right, fine," Kanan relented. "We'll let Sabine use the Darksaber when she comes back. But if she gets hurt, it's on you."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," Kastan replied. "Speak of the devil, here she comes now."

Indeed, the silhouette of Sabine Wren had crested a nearby sand dune. She walked along the edge of the dune and towards the two Force-wielders.

"Kanan," she started. "I'd like to apologize for being so hostile. Should we get back to work?"

"Yeah, I think we should," Kanan agreed.

Kastan coughed conspicuously. "First lesson: Catch."

From seemingly nowhere, an activated Darksaber arced towards Sabine. Despite having no warning whatsoever, the Mandalorian managed to catch the blade before it did any damage.

"Good, you've already got the hang of it," Kastan praised. "I'm going to leave the rest of the teaching to Kanan, because he actually remembers how to use a lightsaber."

"You must use all your skills together. Ready position," Kanan ordered, activating his deep azure lightsaber and quickly parrying Sabine's thrust. A simple flick of the wrist easily knocked the Darksaber out of Sabine's hands.

"You're not fighting me, you're fighting yourself." Kanan chastised. "And you're losing."

Growling in fury, Sabine clutched her saber and attacked, attempting to chop the Jedi in two vertically. The blow was easily sidestepped, only increasing Sabine's rage as she attempted a horizontal slice, which was evaded just as easily.

"You're not committed to this," Kanan said, still dodging Sabine's strikes. "You should quit."

"I don't quit," Sabine stated furiously. "I never quit!"

"Really? That's not what it looks like!" Kanan argued. "You did run, didn't you?"

"No!" Sabine retorted before attacking once more, this time imitating one of Kastan's one-handed stabs.

Kanan sidestepped the attack and clutched her arm, pulling her in.

"But that's what your people believe, isn't it? You ran from the Empire, you ran from your family."

"Lies!"

"So what's the truth?" Kastan interjected.

"The truth… is that… I left to save everyone," Sabine stated, the fury leaving her voice somewhat as her saber and Kanan's locked into a perpendicular struggle. "My mother! My father! My brother! Everything I did was for my family! For Mandalore! But YOU wouldn't know ANYTHING ABOUT THAT, WOULD YOU KE-00!?

"I built weapons," she continued, still ranting in a remorseful tone, "Terrible weapons! And the Empire used them on Mandalore. On friends! Family! People that I knew! They controlled us through fear. Mandalore, feared the weapons I helped create! I helped enslave my people!"

"KE-00?" Fenn Rau, who had apparently materialized out of the void of the night, echoed.

"I wanted to stop it," Sabine continued. "I had to stop it!"

Kanan was struggling to continue deflecting Sabine's relentless blows, and everyone in the camp saw it.

"I spoke out. I spoke out to save them. To save everyone!"

As she said that, she kicked Kanan in his midsection. He stumbled back.

"That's my kind of move," Kastan noted.

Leaping down the dunes, Sabine stood over Kanan's body, currently faceup on the earth.

"And when I did," Sabine stated, her voice inflecting with pain and sadness, "My family didn't stand with me. They chose the Empire. They left me."

The Darksaber lowered, illuminating Kanan's face and his sightless eyes for a brief moment before she extinguished it.

"Why would they believe me?" Sabine asked, much quieter than her earlier ranting. "Why would _they_ follow _me_?"

"I know this might not be what you want to hear," Fenn Rau interjected, "but for what it's worth… I would follow you."

The elder Mandalorian knelt in front of her. She looked shocked.

"Ditto on Fenn," Kastan said. Unlike Fenn Rau, he omitted the kneeling.

"I would too," Ezra stated, walking around Fenn Rau and taking up a similar position to the Mandalorian, then immediately getting up and dragging Kastan into a kneeling position as well.

"You've come a long way in a very short time," Kanan said. "Where you go from here is up to you. But know that _this_ family will stand by you no matter what you choose."

"Unless it's rejoining the Empire," Kastan added. "Then we might have to chat."

The other three in attendance glared daggers at him.

Sabine glanced at the Darksaber hilt in her hand. Her expression tightened into a determined glare, and suddenly, the galaxy was looking significantly better.

 **!0*0!**

His expression tightened into a determined glare, and suddenly, the galaxy was looking significantly better.

"Grand Admiral, we've intercepted the SOS," George stated smugly. "It appears to be coming from Atollon, in the Outer Rim."

"I knew one of my droids found something, I just didn't know which," Thrawn reflected.

"So. When do we attack?" KE-02 inquired. "Hopefully G5-81356 is there so I can beat him into the ground."

"It will take a rotation or two to mobilize our fleet and get to Atollon to efficiently do an orbital bombardment," GRG-892 calculated.

"Then I suggest you begin immediately," KE-02 stated. "You are dismissed, Commander."

"But of course, KE-02," George stated, saluting, before strolling out of the bridge jauntily.

KE-02 soon followed suit, quickly opening a small communicator to the Star Forge.

"Hey, KE-03. Is KE-04 there? I want to talk to both of you. Oh, you're there? Good. We tracked down G5-81356 to Atollon, in the Outer Rim. All in favor of going there and murdering everyone? No? Okay, fine, I won't either."

Any remaining conversation was cut off abruptly by the door closing behind him.

 **!0*0!**

"Our ships will be ready in the next half-rotation or so," Hera said. "That leaves another half-rotation before Operation launches."

The crew on Atollon nodded in understanding.

"In the meantime, we're going to Mandalore to convince the Mandalorians to join us, or at least Ezra, Sabine, Fenn Rau, Kanan, and HK-47 are. Hopefully, having the Darksaber with us will aid with that significantly."

Chopper muttered indiginantly, but did not necessarily argue.

The crew boarded the _Phantom II_ , and soon enough, they launched themselves into hyperspace.

"Are you sure I shouldn't have gone?" Kastan inquired.

"Yes," Hera stated. "The rest of us would have to be blind and deaf to tell that you two haven't been in the best situation ever since your interment. So why don't you do us a favor and explain what you _forgot_ to mention?"

"Sabine already knows everything," Kastan replied, "and the only reason Ezra doesn't know everything is because he was asleep when it happened. It's not important, I swear."

Chopper murmured something along the lines of "Press X to doubt."

"I'm not buying it," Hera stated. "Chopper, hail the Phantom."

The perpetually disgruntled droid rolled into the Ghost to do as ordered.

Aboard the _Phantom II_ , Fenn Rau activated the ship's comms to respond to Chopper's call.

"Sabine. Chopper wants to talk to you."

"Alright, put him on speaker," Sabine stated.

" _Hera's busy interrogating your boyfriend about the information he left out when he got here_ ," Chopper's classic robotic voice emananted. " _So I took some initiative and decided to talk to you. You know_ exactly _what he left out, don't you_?"

"What of it?" Sabine inquired.

" _Tell me,_ " was the droid's reply.

"Kastan's your boyfriend?" Ezra interrupted.

"Statement: It is my opinion that my Master could certainly do worse."

"Ezra, HK" Kanan stated dismally, ending the droid and the Padawan's part in the conversation.

"Alright, alright, fine. But you better cover for me when Kas comes for me," Sabine relented. "He's just as much of a clone as KE-01 is."

" _He's_ what?"

"He's a Sith clone, Force dammit!"

" _He's a_ WHAT?"

"He's a WHAT?" exclaimed everyone.

"Yeah. Still wondering why he's hiding it? He didn't want anyone to worry too much."

"Now that you mention it, that does make sense…" Ezra thought.

"Analysis: I have determined that the probability of my master and Sabine Wren having a more than casual relationship in the near future is about 87.986376492%. In other words, 'very likely'."

Sabine looked at him with a look of pure and unbridled disdain.

"As you desire. Signing off," the ancient assassin droid stated almost hurriedly.

The comm line went dead as the small group of Rebels exited hyperspace above the planet Krownest.

"Well," Sabine sighed. "Here we go."

 **!0*0!**

 **So we've all watched the Krownest arc over on the actual show. How's HK going to mess everything up? Nobody knows! Well, I think I do, but that would be spoiling it. Anyway, that was Chapter 4 of SW:R! This fic is probably going to be a lot longer than SW:I was, and it'll end at the assault of the Star Forge. But don't expect that for a while. Hope you enjoyed, leave a review, yadda yadda yadda. Thanks for reading and all that. Also: If you leave a review, I will respond to it in the introduction or conclusion to the next chapter. So leave a review!**

 **Today's soundtrack: No soundtrack because these things are hard, Force dammit!**

 **Quick note: The amount of research I did for this chapter is surprisingly deep. Just a thing so that you respect me a little more.**


	5. Legacy of Mandalore, but With HK-47

**So, this chapter, I'm starting something I'm calling the RRRP, or the Reading Review Rendezvous Point. The RRRP is where I respond to reviews that anyone might decide to send me. Please do so, and see yourself featured!**

 **This chapter: No reviews, because nobody likes this fanfic.**

 **So, I read last chapter, and I noticed way too many discrepancies for my liking. Just disregard those, please.**

 **DISCLAIMER: If I had a singular scentless cent for every disclaimer that I have to do for this fanfic alone, I would probably have, like, half a dollar.**

 _Chapter 4: Legacy of Mandalore, but with HK-47_

 **!0*0!**

Sabine said something in Mandalorian into the ship's onboard communicator. It only took about half a minute for jetpack-wearing Mandalorians to start attacking the _Phantom II_.

"I thought you told them it was you!" Ezra exclaimed.

"I think that's why they're attacking!" Sabine replied.

"Statement: You're doing it wrong, Mandalorian," HK-47 said, opening the back door to the _Phantom_ and leaping out, rifle in hand.

"Don't you dare kill any of them, HK! I might be related to them!" Sabine ordered.

"Complaint: Why do you torture me so… Okay, fine."

Sabine watched as the assassin droid set his rifle to stun.

"Better."

A few of the Mandalorians were felled by HK-47's deadly accuracy, but the _Phantom II_ had taken heavy hits, including the major casualty of its engines. The vessel was soon falling to the frosty surface of Sabine's home planet.

The small ship crashed inelegantly, but miraculously didn't kill anyone inside.

"Another happy landing," Fenn Rau grumbled.

The group of Rebels stepped off the Phantom in straight into the not-so-welcoming arms of the Clan Wren soldiers.

"Observation: We are surrounded," HK assessed helpfully.

"Gee, thanks, HK," Ezra drawled, activating his forest-colored lightsaber.

One of the Wren-clan attackers muttered something and approached, rifle cocked in the Jedi's direction.

"Open fire!"

The white-clad Mandalorians did just that, rapidly shooting in the direction of the Jedi.

"Don't you dare kill them, Ezra."

"Alright, alright, Sabine. You already told us on the ship, and in my defense, they shot first."

The firing ceased. The Rebels looked up to see the apparent leader of the troopers, as designated by a stylized gold emblem on his armor, had apparently ordered his cohorts to cease firing. He ripped off his helmet to reveal a lightly tanned complexion, hazel eyes, and chocolate-esque locks of hair.

"Sabine, you changed your hair again."

"You know me, Tristan," Sabine replied.

"Statement: You know this particular meatbag?" HK said, interrupting the reunion.

"Did that droid just call me a meatbag?" Tristan questioned.

"He does that to everyone except his master," Kanan said, defusing the situation.

"HK, this is Tristan, my _brother_ ", Sabine explained, placing subtle emphasis on the word brother.

"What's with the Jedi, Sabine?" Tristain asked.

"They're my friends," Sabine quickly replied.

"You probably shouldn't have come back," Tristan continued. "Mother will be expecting us… well, me… back soon. I can't vouch for how she'll reply, though."

"I suppose there's no better way to reintroduce," the Rebel Mandalorian reasoned.

With that, the Rebels accompanied Tristan's squadron back to the Wren Stronghold.

 **!0*0!**

"What the hell, Kas!?" Hera exploded. "Why did you hide that!?"

"In case you didn't notice, we're about to attempt the full-scale _destruction_ of the Star Forge! We can't waste precious time thinking ' _oh no! Our friend is a Sith clone! Whatever shall we do?'_ So you know what I did? I hid it for the better! So none of you would have to worry about it!"

Chopper retreated further into the shadows, still recording.

"That's no excuse! Now everyone will have a reason to think you're working against us! But being Mr. Lone Wolf all the time does wonders for your ability to think about others for a change, now doesn't it?"

"It would have _stayed_ secret had you not tried to pry!" Kastan countered. "I don't know what Kanan sees in you."

"So help me," Hera sighed, "if you don't start shaping up, we're all going to leave you behind."

"Maybe that's what I want," Kastan stated, his eyes narrowing into unfriendly slits.

"I doubt that," Hera stated.

"It was a hypothetical," the True Light paragon replied hastily.

"You know, I don't know what Sabine sees in you," the Twi'lek mused.

Kastan remained silent for a moment. "What in the Corellian hells do you mean by that?"

Hera groaned internally. "Sit yourself down. We're going to be here a while."

 **!0*0!**

"Mother," Sabine stated with an air of authority, "we need to talk."

She unclipped the ancient relic from her belt and ignited it, allowing the Darksaber to be seen by the entire populus. Even from their vantage point, the Rebels could easily make out the astonishment forming on the Wren matriarch's face.

"Kanan, Ezra, HK, this is Ursa Wren, my mother," Sabine said.

"You're still not welcome here," Ursa announced.

"So I joined the Rebellion," Sabine countered, shrugging.

Ursa rolled her eyes in a very Sabine-esque fashion. "I suppose we can let the Jedi into our ancestral home… _if_ they relinquish their weapons."

Seeing that her job was complete, the Wren matriarch stalked back into the inner echelons of the Wren Stronghold.

"She was kidding, right?" Ezra whispered.

"Answer: I have never heard of a Mandalorian who routinely 'kids'," HK replied curtly.

"The situation would go better if you just did it," Sabine agreed.

"If it'll stop them from attacking us, I'll do it," Kanan said before handing his lightsaber to the nearest Mandalorian.

With that out of the way, the Rebels and Mandalorians marched into the stronghold. Had they waited a few minutes, they may have noticed the silhouette of Fenn Rau stalking the premises.

"I hope you realize what you've done," Ursa Wren stated, her tone cold as ice. "Your mere existence will bring the Empire down onto our family, and as much as we may not like it, the Darksaber is nothing more than a symbol."

"A symbol that's united Mandalore in the past," Sabine countered. "If there was ever a time for the Mandalorians to unite, it's now."

"Unite? Unite?! It's hard enough to keep the other clans from destroying Clan Wren in the first place ever since _your_ insurgency, _your_ defection."

"I left the Empire to stop them from using the weapon I helped create to destroy Mandalore! To destroy you!"

"Even if I did believe that, it certainly wouldn't save you from the other clans. They see you as a traitor, Sabine. They see Clan Wren as a traitor, and Tristan has to serve Gar Saxon in order to prove our loyalty and gain some semblance of stature."

"Serve Gar Saxon to _gain_ stature? Gar Saxon is a killer!"

"Gar Saxon is the Emperor's Hand," Ursa Wren pointed out.

"His super commandos wiped out the Protectors, one of the last truly independent Mandalorian groups!" Sabine countered.

"The Protectors were executed for high treason, and when Fenn Rau comes out of hiding, we'll kill him too."

"The Protectors were loyal to Mandalore, not the Empire. Is that justification for wiping them out, even if the other clans turned against them?"

"I've had enough of this. Walk with me" Ursa declared, stalking out of the room and motioning for Sabine to follow. Oddly enough, HK-47 followed.

"Hold it," Tristan Wren said stonily. "It would be… unwise of the droid to follow."

"Statement: You Mandalorians love your history, don't you?" HK-47 asked, sarcastically. "Statement: Well, here's some history for you. I am the singular model HK-47 assassination unit, created by the Star Forge and right-hand servant of Darth Revan, the Butcher," the droid boasted.

"Yeah, I'm not buying it," Tristan stated dully.

"Believe it or not, the droid isn't lying," Kanan refuted. "If he was, then he would have said 'Lie:' as opposed to 'Statement.' It's how he's programmed."

"Acknowledgement: The organic meatbag is correct. Come to think of it, I really ought to fix that… But regardless, my current objective is to ensure the safety of one Sabine Wren, and until that directive is changed or removed, then I will continue to do that."

Having finished its speech, the assassin casually pushed past Tristan and onto the balcony. As it approached, the droid began to pick up on the conversation ensuing further ahead.

"... Everything I have done is for family! Gar Saxon gave us a choice; serve him or be annihilated completely. Your father-"

"Don't say it-"

"Is alive."

This comment threw Sabine off guard, as evidenced by the lull in the conversation.

"He's being held captive in all but name on Mandalore," Ursa Wren continued. "It's _his_ life that ensures our loyalty."

"Then why didn't you try and find me? Save me?" Sabine demanded.

"Save you? We _were_ saving you! If you hadn't escaped, then the stranglehold on Clan Wren would have been complete. And now that you have the Darksaber, that stranglehold is even more powerful."

Deciding it had heard enough, HK-47 regressed into the inner sanctums of the Wren Stronghold, just to check up on its Jedi compatriots. Surprisingly, nobody had died. Soon enough, Sabine and her mother exited the balcony and returned to the room, flanked by Mandalorian guards. HK instantly noticed the Darksaber clipped to not Sabine's belt, but rather, that of Ursa Wren.

"Mother," Tristan said, "you've been summoned by Gar Saxon."

Shielding a grimace, the Mandalorian matriarch re-exited the room, walking further into the inner echelons of the building. Tristan and Sabine had gone somewhere, presumably to spar. Glancing out the nearby window, it thought it saw Fenn Rau slinking through the nearby woods, but it made no comment, as not to incite a false alarm or implicate the Protector. The premises were secured; nothing was getting in or out without their say-so. Deciding it had nothing better to do, HK-47 powered down temporarily, ready to power up instantly it need be.

 **!0*0!**

Kastan was confused.

Scratch that. He was stupefied.

All these things he had never even considered, in all his experience with working with people, laid bare in such a fashion, left the True Light paragon bewildered. His mind connected invisible dot after invisible dot after invisible dot, all to paint the merest pixel of a grand tapestry of human thought and emotion. Somewhere buried deep inside his consciousness, he wondered if his clones felt the same way that he did. Just as flabbergasted, just as mind-numbingly confused, as he was at this moment.

"So you're telling me," Kastan managed to say, "that Sabine likes me."

"There we go," Hera sighed. "It only took you an hour, but we got it eventually."

"Not for what I am, but _who_ I am," Kastan continued.

"Yes."

"Not because of what I've done."

"Yes."

"I… I need time to think," Kastan eked out, walking away in a daze.

Chopper approached once more, ending the recording.

"You better not have recorded that, Chop," Hera said. "Who knows what Kastan might do to you if he found out you had."

Seeing an opportunity to save its own metal hide, Chopper sent the recording to the Phantom and then deleted the file from its own database.

 **!0*0!**

 _There were hundreds. Thousands, even. Thousands of clones, all staring at him. Each wore a domino mask of black or white, obscuring their true identities, but the similarities to himself and to each other were too uncanny to be coincidence._

 _The original Kastan couldn't move, couldn't speak. His body was obscured by shadows, and try as he might, he couldn't see himself. There was no one around, except his clones. Still staring ceaselessly, silent eyes boring deep into his mind, twisting, creating agony from nothing, and then nothing from agony._

 _A single sound emanated through the room. A human scream. Kastan fought to move forward, but every step he attempted only sucked him further back, into the gnarled waiting hands of the Emperor, the entity ruining his life._

 _Acute pain flooded his brain as the Emperor unleashed a potent surge of Force Lightning, and after a while, the clones followed suit, tearing Kastan apart with electricity alone._

 _The last thought to enter his mind was that of his allies, his friends, and more specifically, one Sabine Wren._

The True Light Paragon jolted awake, streams of slick sweat cascading down his face and onto his chest. Soon after, a pounding headache stole sleep away from the True Light Grandmaster, effectively cutting off any more rest available.

Judging by the position of the sun, only fifteen minutes had passed before the realm of sleep had taken him.

 _Are they all me?_ He thought. He had, of course, heard the theories that a Force-sensitive clone had all the memories of their originals. What separated him, then, from the hundreds of KE's to come? Would they all be carbon copies of KE-01, depraved, enraged, and bent on destruction? Or would there be discrepancies within their ranks? Kastan had no clue.

"There has to be a difference," Kastan said silently, "and if there isn't one, then I have to _make_ a difference."

Having decided his next course of action, Kastan headed to the _Ghost_ , to commit the deed he felt needed to happen.

 **!0*0!**

Five minutes.

Five minutes of HK-47 powered down, and the Jedi had already been subdued by Gar Saxon's forces.

No word could express the droid's utter hatred for the meatbags its master called "allies" right about now. The sound of footsteps alerted the assassin to the incoming and probably irate Mandalorian, Sabine Wren.

"What the hell is going on? What happened to loyalty?" she asked, deadly quiet.

"Your mother is perfectly loyal," the Emperor's Hand replied. "Just not to you."

A guard handed the Darksaber over to Gar Saxon, who took it eagerly. Sabine started to say something, but was halted by her brother. A hushed statement ensued between the two, and HK doubted it was its place to pry.

"Now, I've upheld my end of the bargain," the Wren matriarch stated. "Now it's your turn. Take the Jedi and go, but my daughter stays with me."

"Retort: I consider that unlikely in the extreme," HK interrupted.

"And why is that?" Ursa inquired.

"Answer: I calculate a 75% chance that the organic meatbag Gar Saxon double-crosses you and kills your daughter instead, as well as a 24% chance that we simply fight back and leave on our own terms."

"What do you know? The droid is right," Gar Saxon said, casually strolling up to the throne of the Wren matriarch. "Because it certainly looks like you've been consorting with traitors. With Rebels."

"What are you talking about?" Ursa asked, suddenly serious.

"Did I stutter? You've harbored Traitors and that makes Clan Wren a threat to the Empire."

Saxon's entourage of Imperial Super Commandos raised their arms, clearly intending on massacring the entire family.

"Saxon! Don't do this!" Tristan exclaimed.

"Tristan Wren," Gar Saxon mused. "You've been good to me, so I'll offer you a choice. Side with me, or die with your family."

Seeming to have made a decision, Tristan leveled a pistol at his own sister. HK turned and stared at him, imploring that he make the right choice and not be shot on the spot.

"I choose family," he finally said, leveling the gun at Saxon instead.

Gar Saxon looked at him with a face that screamed disdain. He raised his arm to signal his men to open fire, but was rather distracted by the massive window breaking to admit Fenn Rau, wielding an emerald and azure lightsaber in each hand. They were, of course, returned to their respective owners. HK, of course, was promptly affixed with a disabling device. It was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?

The battle between Clan Saxon and Clan Wren continued, each side suffering heavy losses. However, due to having two Force-wielders at their disposal, Clan Wren quickly gained an edge in the fight. Gar Saxon himself, though, had other ideas, as he activated the Darksaber and crept around the throne room towards the distracted Ursa Wren.

"Ezra! Can I borrow your lightsaber?" Sabine asked.

In reply, the neophyte Jedi tossed her saber in her direction. However, an bloodred arm appeared out of nowhere and clutched the emerald saber.

"HK, come on!"

"Justification: I only need a second to get this goddamn disabling device."

The droid reached around with the lightsaber, painfully slowly, and eventually chopped the restrainer into nothingness. Having completed its task, it gingerly threw the lightsaber to the Mandalorian before screeching a war cry and charging into the fray.

Seeing that she had little time left to save her mother, Sabine rushed to the throne, ignoring any Mandalorians in her way in her desperate sprint. Gar Saxon had taken a simple stance behind Sabine's mother, Darksaber held over his head in anticipation of the kill.

Just as he began to move the Darksaber in its killing arc, the blade was caught by a green one. Its wielder had appeared in the nick of time, much to the Mandalorian leader's dissent.

"I will destroy Clan Wren!" Gar Saxon yelled in anger, activating his jetpack and taking the fight to the air. Sabine gave chase with her own jetpack, leaving the Mandalorian matriarch to continue the fight on the ground. Of course, fighting in the air in an enclosed room, no matter how high the ceiling went. Eventually, the two aerial fighters broke through the glass and onto the frozen lake the Wren Stronghold looked over. In the process, Sabine landed on her back, severely damaging her jetpack.

Meanwhile, the battle still raging in the interior had begun to wane, due in part to HK-47's impeccable marksmanship. Seeing the brawl occuring on the ice, the survivors rushed back onto the balcony, to watch the spectacle unfold.

Sabine had taken an interestingly defensive approach to the duel, dodging and weaving around Gar Saxon's attacks. Occasionally, she would block an attack or attempt a swipe, but overall, she let the Clan Saxon patriarch stay on the offensive.

"Why are we all just standing here? We have to help!" Ezra exclaimed.

"No, we don't," Ursa Wren stated firmly. "Mandalorian custom dictates that no one may interrupt a duel."

"So Mandalorian rites and customs are more important than your own daughter?" Kanan questioned.

"Commentary: Do you really want an answer to that question?" HK interjected.

Nobody acknowledged his interruption.

"Answer: Judging from what I've seen of Mandalorians, and meatbags in general, the answer would obviously be yes."

By this point, Gar Saxon had gotten tired of Sabine's passive strategy, and took to the skies once more, firing down at the Clan Wren warrior. Activating her shields, said warrior blocked most of his shots and used her lightsaber to deflect the rest back at the offending Mandalorian. Sensing that the opportunity to take him down had come, Sabine swiftly activated the flamethrower built into her vambraces, and managed to completely nullify Gar Saxon's jetpack, making it as useless as hers.

"Consider me impressed," Saxon taunted. "But it won't save you."

"Commentary: I think she was about to say the same thing to you," HK replied.

"... What HK said."

Ending the conversation, the two dueling Mandalorians charged at each other, and Gar Saxon instantly noticed that Sabine's methods were completely different at this stage, actively keeping him on the defensive while trying to break through said defense.

Then the ice began to break. It simply wasn't strong enough to deal with two lightsaber-wielders fighting on top of it. It broke into an infinite number of small, individual icebergs floating independently of each other above the turgid water.

The Mandalorians in question were more or less unfazed. Deciding that it was now or never, Gar Saxon yelled a battle cry and charged, attempting to catch Sabine off guard with a swift vertical chop. However, this was the very moment Sabine had been waiting for; she angled her lightsaber horizontally, catching Gar Saxon unawares for just long enough to twist her wrists clockwise, batting the Darksaber out of her opponent's grasp in the process. Reaching to her left, Sabine grabbed the Darksaber out of the air and held them like an X at Gar Saxon's throat.

"Yield!" she demanded.

"A true Mandalorian never yields," Gar Saxon spat. "By tradition, you are to execute me!"

"Those might be the Mandalorian ways," Sabine said, "but they aren't mine."

Those on the balcony, who had long since moved closer to the ice, stood stunned by Sabine's proclamation. Said Mandalorian had promptly turned and was walking back their way, confidently.

She turned once again when she heard the gunshot.

Gar Saxon was staring at her, blaster in hand. Slowly, his head swiveled to look down at a bullet wound in his chest. He would have looked up, but another bullet promptly hit him in the head, ending his life.

Everyone first turned to Ursa Wren, her own pistol leveled at the Emperor's Hand, and then towards HK, who had just begun the process of unscoping.

"Query: What? Everyone knew it was going to happen."

"And nobody hurts my family," the Wren matriarch added.

"Gar Saxon is guilty of treason against the throne, collaboration with the enemy, and the execution of my Protectors," Fenn Rau announced. "His death will still cause chaos on Mandalore."

"Maybe Mandalore needs chaos to rebuild and find a more worthy leader," Ursa responded.

 **!0*0!**

The necessary repairs to the _Phantom_ had been made, and the Rebels were ready to return to Atollon.

"The Empire will come after you," Kanan warned. "If you need the Rebellion's assistance, just give us a call."

"This is the same Rebellion that came here asking for our help," Ursa Wren replied. "Mandalore must rise by itself, and our people must protect ourselves."

"Statement: I wouldn't have doubted you, Ursa Wren," HK declared.

"And I'm staying here," Sabine added, almost as an afterthought.

"Wait, what?" Ezra asked.

"I've had enough of running away," Sabine explained. "I feel that I can do more good here than back at the Rebellion. I'll come back after we rescue my father."

"Well, we'll miss you," Kanan said, locking Sabine in an embrace.

The Mandalorians watched as the _Phantom II_ took flight, back to the planet Atollon.

 **!0*0!**

The _Phantom II_ landed at Chopper Base with little fanfare, although the majority of the base ran out to greet them. The vessel opened to reveal the two Jedi and HK-47.

"Welcome back, everyone," Hera Syndulla stated. "Hang on, where's Sabine?"

"She opted to stay on Krownest," Kanan explained. "She'll be back when she rescues her father."

"I see," a new voice stated.

They fixed their attention on Kastan, who suddenly stood out from the crowd, as his hair was now a snowy white.

"Kas… you… dyed your hair," Ezra said, stating the obvious.

"Yeah," Kastan replied. "I figured that with all these other clones running around, I should probably make myself distinguishable, right?" He paused for a second. "Sabine's going to kill me when she gets back, won't she?"

"Answer: I doubt it, master, if the video Chopper sent us is anything to go by."

The True Light paragon froze, then turned to HK. "What video?"

"Answer: The hour-long video of the organic meatbag Hera Syndulla lecturing you on how people think about you, most specifically, one Sabine Wren," the droid replied nonchalantly.

"HK, disregard Directive 54 and terminate Chopper," Kastan ordered.

"Acknowledgement: With pleasure."

"Kastan, you are _not_ allowed to make HK assassinate my droid!" Hera said.

"I was joking," Kastan said. "HK-47 doesn't even have a Directive 54. That's just the trigger word for if I want to mess with someone."

"I hate to mess up the reunion, guys," a random Rebel technician announced, "But we've got massive problems."

The crowd swarmed around the technician, who was apparently reading off a newspaper. The landing site was filled with noise, but it was easy enough to gather what was going on. The Empire had launched its Operation early, sending out a massive fleet and completely taking over Manaan, ensuring that the vital kolto was all theirs. At the same time, a 'catastrophic accident' had occurred on Anoat; the entire planet had been blanketed with a highly toxic gas, rendering everything on it destroyed completely. The gassing was even worse with the sheer influx of people going to the Anoat system due to the kolto worms that Brenda was so intent on studying.

And now the last Enderbeck was dead, her corpse found first by the rescue teams who simply showed up too late.

Kastan, overwhelmed, clutched his head with his hands and solemnly walked back into Chopper Base, utterly defeated.

 **!0*0!**

 _They were still wearing domino masks._

 _But there were more of them than last time, their numbers easily in the thousands. Still staring._

 _Kastan turned around. No Palpatine eager to swallow him whole. Every step he took carried him further forward, the eyes of his clones still inexorably locked onto him._

 _Soon enough, he came to a door. He could hear distinctly feminine sobbing on the other side. Deciding he couldn't take it anymore, he forced the door open, stepping through to an empty room._

 _The door slammed behind him, and by instinct, he turned around. The sobbing intensified, and suddenly, the wretched odor of death wafted through the room. KE-00 slowly turned to see Brenda's limp body strewn across a table, her body mutilated, scarred, and filled with random holes. Then there was another person, kneeling down in front of the table, crying. Their features were completely indistinguishable from a random person. Was it him? His curiosity piqued, Kastan edged closer, and peeled the hands away from the person's face._

 _There were no tears. Only the bloodred eyes of Grand Admiral Thrawn._

 _Suddenly, the crying person was just Thrawn. He was standing there, staring down at Kastan. His vision sparkled with senseless stars as Thrawn quickly punched him in the face. He recovered quickly and reached for his sword, only to find that it wasn't there. Another punch landed in his gut._

" _You are weak. You are pathetic. You are nothing," Thrawn said, but it wasn't his voice. It was the voice of KE-01, taunting, jeering._

 _Mustering his rage, Kastan attacked with a flurry of punches, kicks, and whatever he could come up with, but to no avail. Somehow, the Chiss warlord easily dodged every shot._

" _You are weak. You are pathetic. You are nothing."_

 _It was Thrawn's turn to attack, and attack he did. By the time he was finished, more of Kastan's skin was purple and blue than his normal beige. Noticing this, he attempted to heal himself with the Force. Nothing happened. Panicking as Thrawn approached with a blaster in hand, Kastan attempted a Force Wave to blast the Imperial away. Still nothing. Thrawn was right in front of him, holding a gun in one hand and Brenda's corpse in the other. He smiled lopsidedly._

 _Bang._

Kastan awoke, clammy and tired. Deciding that there was no point to any of this, the True Light paragon stood, and contemplated what it meant to be human.

 **!0*0!**

 **Okay, so this is going pretty well, I think. I'm still kind of sad that nobody's left a review, but whatever. The point is, here's the fifth chapter. I tried to make this a bit more somber than the others, especially at the end, in order to really emphasize the difficulty Kastan is having with coming to terms with how he feels and what he is. Also, Operation happened, so no more kolto for the Rebels, and Brenda's dead.**

 **Also, in case you haven't noticed, I haven't really been using Zeb or Chopper much in this fic. Frankly, I haven't really figured out how to write Zeb, so that might have something to do with it. But I really want to work Zeb into this fic in any way possible… I'm just not sure how. And in case you didn't notice, I really don't like Chopper. I mean, it's kind of annoying in every sense. Now, I'm not bashing Chopper fans, it's just my opinion.**

 **Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this. And if you could, leave a review.**


	6. What Remains of Jedha

**Could we all just step back for a minute and appreciate how quickly I've been churning these chapters out? Like, seriously, these chapters are coming out really quickly, far quicker than I thought they would. I also notice that, especially in the last chapter, this story seems to just be gravitating towards the overall plotline for Rebels, just with Kas, HK, and T3 thrown in there for the LAWLZ. And as a writer, I really don't like to do that very much. So, I'm going to try to get these chapters out as soon as possible, to get to the good stuff.**

 **Also, I recently discovered a massive discrepancy that needs to be addressed pronto. The current events in this story take place in 2 BBY. The Empire is 17 years old at this time. Therefore, Kastan would only be three years old by the time the Empire is created, because he is twenty years old! And yet, I said he was born 10 years before the Empire, which would make him thirty! Now, I have a serious explanation for this that I'll do in the conclusion. So hang tight.**

 **Anyway: RRRP is still empty last I checked, because nobody likes this fanfic. Despite no less than 21 of you visiting on April 17th alone. Thanks for all the feedback, guys! (- Read this with sarcasm.)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Wars, because I don't own Disney. And if you didn't know that already, you're blinder than Kanan Jarrus in early Season 3.**

Chapter 5: Hearts of Kyber

 **!0*0!**

 _For once, the central room was empty. No clones staring deep into his soul this time._

 _A normal person would take this as a blessing. But Kastan Enderbeck wasn't a normal person by any stretch of the word. Instantly, the True Light Grandmaster was wary, taken by surprise by the sudden change of pace._

 _Faceless people started to amass in front of him, but for once, the Insurgent felt no fear. The being in front of him melded into a different guise every instant, but none of them were a clone of him._

 _The constant changing slowly began to fade, before settling on the face and body of Sabine Wren, just the way she looked when she left for Krownest. She was smiling what appeared to be a genuine grin. Slowly, she reached out to G5-81356._

 _Seeing no current, imposing threat, KE-00 took the time to take in the surroundings. His eyes lazily swept left, to see a window spewing sunlight. It gave no warmth and left no telltale bright spot on the floor._

 _Then they turned right, and Kastan stared at an ocean of himself. Clones of himself, their eyes flaming a raging red. It took him a moment to process that they no longer wore masks._

 _Briefly, he wondered why they were all standing on the wall, why gravity had messed up so. He turned to see his Mandalorian companion fall sideways towards the clones, completely gone without even the time to scream._

 _Vertigo flooded his body as gravity inverted on him, throwing the True Light prodigy the same way as it had Sabine, into the plethora of KE-01's. As he fell, the distance between himself and the true earth stretched, elongated beyond physical belief. As the wind howled, tearing at his clothing and whipping at his now bone-shaded hair, Kastan looked up, towards where he had fallen from, and he thought he could make out Vader's emotionless mask._

 _There was a startling_ crunch _, an instant of pain, and then nothing._

At least this nightmare didn't throw the sleep-deprived True Light grandmaster from his rest, instead opting to ease him back to the world of the living. The twenty-year-old sat up, stretched, dressed himself, and then promptly almost tripped over T3-M4, who had decided to deliver him a pitcher of chilled water.

Thanking the astromech, Kastan retreated inside, drank about half of the water, and then quickly doused himself in the rest, in order to finish the act of waking up.

Kastan exited the room feeling surprisingly refreshed, despite the ordeal he had undergone the night before. Day in and day out, it was the exact same story. Wake up, perform some menial task to busy himself with for the day while contemplating why he was such a moron (that activity usually being training of some kind), suffer from horrendous nightmares and insomnia for the duration of the night, rinse and repeat.

Already, the boy's mind was contemplating his current actions for today. Ezra had volunteered to get himself captured to warn that Fulcrum character that he was being watched, Sabine was still on Krownest, Chopper's company was dismal at best, Kanan was off somewhere in the wilderness, and Hera had warned that anyone entering the _Ghost_ would be shot on sight… that left Zeb. The Lasat warrior was probably the member of the Phoenix Squadron that Kastan knew least, excluding Chopper and his painfully angsty attitude.

"Zeb," Kastan greeted. "What have you been up to?"

"Not much," he replied. "We were about to go carry out a raid on one of Jedha's transport ships; now that Operation's been launched, we can afford to wait for the attack on the Star Forge. Are you coming with?"

Kastan was about to say no, but then a single thought entered his consciousness. _Why the hell not?_ It nagged. _Force knows you're not doing anything of use cooped up at Chopper Base._

"You know what? Yeah, I think I will."

The Lasat seemed slightly taken aback at the Sith Clone's sudden reimbursement in the world of the living, but paid it no heed. "Well, come on, kid. We're leaving in a few."

 **!0*0!**

The miniscule shuttle perched onto the inner landing bays of the resurrected Star Forge. The space station was constantly spewing forth Star Destroyers and other powerful technology that was close to the core of the Empire's war effort. KE-02 stalked forward off the shuttle, and was greeted by two of his fellow clones.

"What do you want, 02?" one of them demanded. "I was kind of busy formulating nightmares for the Old Geezer."

"Relax, 04, this is important. Commander GRG-892 and Thrawn figured out where the Old Geezer and his various companions are, which I already told you about. We're currently preparing for the assault; as soon as we get those Kyber crystals for our lightsabers, we'll be good to go. And just like the Old Geezer, we're terrible with blasters. I just wanted to verify your involvement in the incursion at Atollon, just in case the Kyber shipment gets itself messed up."

"Count me in," KE-03 chimed in. "It's three of us versus one of him and two Jedi. I think those are pretty good odds."

"And if my insight into the Old Geezer's mind is correct, he's not exactly in his prime," KE-04 added. "His left arm is completely shot, even beyond the repair of kolto. If all three of us go, we could overwhelm the Old Geezer, and then round up on the other two."

"It's decided, then," the first Sith clone stated, a wry leer overtaking his features. "As soon as we get the kyber crystals, we'll attack Atollon alongside Thrawn and his cohorts."

"We might as well travel along," KE-03 suggested. "The closer we are to the Old Geezer, the more potent KE-04's _insight_ will be."

"That may be true, but that also increases the probability that the Old Geezer realizes your existence. 03 is fine, I guess, but 04's current state of secrecy is an invaluable tool against the Rebels."

Having decided their angle of attack, KE-02 and KE-03 casually walked back to their shuttle and took off. The remaining Sith Clone stalked back into the inner echelons of the Star Forge, muttering furiously to himself.

 **!0*0!**

The mining moon of Jedha slowly blocked more and more of the starry backdrop of space as the Rebels approached. They landed rather uneventfully, a few kilometers' hike from the city.

Zeb nudged Kastan, gently pushing the True Light paragon from his doldrums. "Wake up, kid, we're getting off."

"I know, Zeb," Kastan said wearily before standing and strolling out of the shuttle.

The sun beat down on the motley Rebel crew as they walked into the city, stuffed to the brim with a plethora of different species, languages, and stormtroopers, courtesy of the Empire's daunting presence. More than once, Kastan felt his pockets meticulously sifted through; it was truly a blessing that he had left almost all of his remaining belongings back on Atollon. In fact, the only item he had actually brought with him was a few hundred credits and his sword, both stashed away in a place no pickpocket would ever find them.

"You there!"

The majority of the Rebels stopped their march and turned, each somehow feeling that the comment was intended for them. They saw no one looking at them in any direction whatsoever.

"Yes, you!"

Only Kastan and Zeb happened to be looking in the right direction at the right time to see a man, wearing what appeared to be some sort of ceremonial garb, gesture towards the group. Thoroughly intrigued, the pair broke away from the main group and moved towards this mysterious person.

He was seated by a fire in a particularly dank corner of the street, more or less alone amidst the ceaseless swarms of sentients flowing around him. After a few minutes of fighting through the crowd, the pair managed to come close to the person, and took a seat.

"Now, what brings you two here?" the man asked, still looking in the wrong direction with vacant, light blue eyes.

"You called us," Zeb replied.

"Yes, it would appear so. I am Chirrut Îmwe," the blind man introduced. "But that was not the question. I asked you what brought you here. Not if I called you."

"We were kind of intending on… _liberating_ … a shipment of Kyber crystals from the Empire," Kastan whispered.

"And what, exactly, _is_ a Kyber crystal?" Chirrut continued.

Neither of the two knew the actual answer to the question. Kyber crystals simply… were.

"Shouldn't you know? I mean, you have one in your staff," Kastan pointed out. Indeed, the tip of the man's stick was reminiscent of a certain silvery lightsaber crystal.

"You're an astute one, aren't you?" the man noted, clearly ignoring the retort.

"He kind of should be," Zeb replied. "He's Force Sensitive, like you are."

Someone was making his presence known in the corner of the Rebel's eye, but neither of them paid any heed. It was probably just the average heavily armored guy casually strolling around the city of Jedha.

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner," Kastan remarked. "I noticed as soon as I saw him.

"But frankly, I'm not quite as interested in that. What I want to know is… why are _you_ here?"

"Chirrut is one of the Guardians of the Whills," an onlooker supplied. "Of course, the Whills were the first thing the Empire destroyed when they occupied Jedha, so now they just cause trouble for everyone."

Zeb glanced at his communicator. "The rest of our group is calling us back. We really ought to get going."

"Fine," Kastan relented. "I'll have to come back at some point, though."

Without further ado, they regressed back into the chaotic street, back to the Rebel group.

"The brightest stars have hearts of kyber," Chirrut called from the afar.

 **!0*0!**

The _Chimeara_ was far superior to the _Vanguard_ in almost every respect. It was bigger, more powerful, and simply, indescribably better.

This was ignored as GRG-892 warily eyed the particularly naive Jedi prisoner stowed inside the _Sentinel_ -class shuttle.

 _Why the hell is he here?_ The commander wondered. _It's illogical. He just_ escaped _from the_ Vanguard _, so what would drive him to stroll right back into our arms, almost willingly?_

 _And why in his right mind did he bring the_ droid _?_

Silently chalking another point onto the Reasons Why He Hated the Rebellion, the stormtrooper commander glanced back at the man to his immediate left. Agent Kallus had been lauded as a star amongst the Empire's ranks, much as GRG-892 currently was.

The shuttle landed unceremoniously, and the transfer to Grand Admiral Thrawn went without a hitch. The group of Imperials residing in the ship, along with Kallus' former instructor Wullf Yularen, were promptly called into the brig as soon as the prisoner was successfully interred. The group of five stood a bit uncomfortably in the brig. No one else was in sight.

"So, what brings you to Lothal?" Kallus inquired to his superior.

Yularen was about to reply, but the door behind them opened to admit Grand Admiral Mitth-raw-nuruodo. "His expertise is required, in this case. If our assault on the Rebel base is to be successful, it is imperative that we exterminate their mole, codenamed 'Fulcrum'. And perhaps today we'll learn their identity."

Kallus nodded slowly in response. GRG-892 glanced at him, but said nothing.

"So, Fulcrum is a spy in our ranks feeding the Rebels information," Lieutenant Lyste summarized.

"Exactly, Lieutenant," Thrawn verified. "Their actions explain the recent Imperial failings and Rebel victories."

"We will find and exterminate this cowardly mole," Lyste vowed.

"While you should be prided on your determination, Lieutenant, I must warn you that no one is above suspicion. Colonel Yularen will interrogate all of you separately."

GRG-892 assumed a contemplative pose, privately mulling over the information he had heard.

"Be vigilant, men," Yularen ordered. "Watch your subordinates closely and your peers even closer. This search must be done quickly if we are to strike the Rebel base in a rotation."

Konstantine appeared dumbfounded. "But with all due respect, sir, how did we manage to eke out one system among thousands pertaining to the location of the Rebel Base?"

"I'll let Commander GRG-892 explain that to you; he was the one who discovered it in the first place. All of you are dismissed."

With a wave of his blue-hued hand, the officers assembled in front of him dispersed, to find the spy lurking in their midst.

 **!0*0!**

The rebels had gotten a little… sidetracked.

The raid was going just fine. Get in, take as many kyber crystals as possible, get out. Their first mistake was to divide into two separate teams, although Zeb and Kastan managed to end up in the same group. One team surveyed the crystal transfer from the hands of the Empire to those of the Rebels, while the other team had the task of piloting the vessel full of kyber back to Atollon.

So how they had ended up staring Saw Gerrera himself dead in the eyes was more or less beyond them. Well, not really beyond them so much as beyond their control.

Their second mistake was to divide the workhorse team into two parts; one of them to survey the scene and report any incoming insurgencies, and the other to do the actual work of liberating the crystals. It was going surprisingly well at the time; the few troopers that actually attacked were small platoons, and the Rebels took no survivors. In the end, they had made off with a hefty fifty-seven large kyber crystals and innumerable smaller ones.

Then everything started going badly.

The Rebels had disguised themselves as stormtroopers. Zeb had instantly gravitated towards a leading position, as he was skilled enough with leadership from his days of being a Lasat honor guard. The garb worked a little too well, though; almost the instant they left the claustrophobic metropolis of Jedha, the crew was completely overrun by a group of particularly extremist Rebels. Due to the element of surprise being against them and the other group having the home turf and experience, the disguised troopers were overrun. Zeb, being the supposed leader of the group, was left alive, as well as about seventy-five percent of the Rebel force. The group was blindfolded and marched like cattle into their base of operations, which was just as infested, clammy, and disgusting as one would expect.

"Bor Gullet," the cyborg in front of them spat.

Well. This could only go well.

Kastan rubbed his temples in exasperation at the man's single-mindedness. "You do realize that stormtroopers are all clones of each other, right? So they all look the same, right? Well, you've already unmasked us, and do any of us look like a clone? No. There goes your theory of us being Empire scum."

"Conscription," Saw countered.

Kastan looked thoughtful for a moment. "And in case you haven't noticed, one of us is a Lasat. And in case you didn't know, they're practically extinct, and are only like that because the Empire trashed their home planet. If he was here unwillingly, do you really expect him to stay? No!"

"Besides, the Empire isn't exactly friendly to species that aren't human beings. You, of all people, should no that well enough.

"The kyber crystal liberation was going just fine, by which I mean we had just succeeded. They you show up and kill a quarter of our number and then take us here for the sole purpose of wasting our time!" Zeb interjected.

"Although it could have been worded slightly better, I have to agree with my companion," Kastan said. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I'm going to casually walk out of here and take the kyber crystals with me. I'll even give you the gift of a few kyber crystals to ensure our goodwill. Have a pleasant day."

"You will go nowhere."

Kastan paused, having just used the Force to remove his and Zeb's constraints. The man in front of him was currently preoccupied with attaching a mask to his face.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm going to go."

The True Light paragon calmly tapped a few buttons next to the steel door. Oddly, there was a fleshy, lavender wall right behind it. That was simply shoddy engineering -

Oh wait. The wall had tentacles. And eyes. Saw did his preparing and brought a Bor Gullet.

"As I said, you cannot go anywhere," Saw repeated. "The Bor Gullet can sense your thoughts… but it has the unfortunate side effect of making one lose their minds."

The oozing, undulating, blubbery mass slipped through the doorway, revealing an octopus-esque purple-skinned beast with long, probing tentacles. At least six of them reached for the two Rebels situated in the center of the room. Reacting on instinct, Kastan threw up his mental walls and used the Force to push the offending tentacles from his Lasat compatriot. Sensing that some force field was deflecting its attacks on the non-human, the Bor Gullet gravitated its attention towards the other one and connected itself to Kastan's mind relentlessly.

What it saw was pure and unbridled terror. Not for its victim, but for itself. The True Light paragon was recalling - in great detail - every instant of him killing the Bor Gullet. First he would chop off the creature's tentacles with a razor-sharp sword, in what appeared to be simple disdain. It would wait for a few seconds to extend the agony and watch it bleed. Then he would stab it through the eye, but for some reason, the human was wearing a domino mask and a sadistic leer. The edge of the blade would pierce the Bor Gullet's other eye, and while it was blinded, the human would shoot lightning from its fingers into the severed tentacles, temporarily bringing them back to life to wiggle their way further and further into their former sockets. And then, without further ado, the human drew a blaster and shot it in its bulbous face, ending its life instantly.

With an animalistic scream, the Bor Gullet unwound its tentacles from Kastan's face and dragged itself as quickly as it could away, away, away.

A few seconds later, Kastan opened his eyes. The Bor Gullet's slime cascaded in miniature waterfalls down his face, making hideous _drip_ noises on the gritty desert floor.

"That was it?"

Saw Gerrera had left, presumably to plan his next strike or to complain about his failure to enter Kastan's mind.

"Whatever. I'm out of here. Agreed?"

"Agreed," the stoic Lasat replied, all too eager to end the mission.

 **!0*0!**

The mission went very smoothly after that. Soon enough, their vessel had returned to Chopper Base a few hundred Kyber Crystals heavier. Interestingly enough, Ezra had beaten them back, despite being detained in the _Chimeara_. Not many questions were asked; the rebels were just content that the mission went smoothly. Thoroughly exhausted, Kastan Enderbeck flopped down in the dormitories, completely unwilling to regress into the constant state of nightmares he had recently been subjected to. He glanced at his surroundings, and noticed a communicator positioned suggestively on a nearby table.

He had to sort this out. It had already been long enough.

The True Light paragon activated the communicator and held it to his lips. "Sabine? Do you read me?"

There was the sound of static and silence on the other end. Instantly, Kastan began to fear the worst. What could have gone wrong on the frozen world of Krownest? Presumably, Clan Saxon was furious about the death of their leader… but that would imply…

She probably just couldn't reach her communicator right now. Sighing, Kastan opted to leave a message.

"I realized that I never had the opportunity to explain to you everything that happened on the _Vanguard,_ " he started. "So I figured I might as well do it now.

"The reason I hid the fact that I'm a Sith Clone is to not cause any unnecessary hesitation for anyone involved. We were about to attack the Star Forge, and the last thing anyone has to worry about is me being allied with the Empire. In hindsight, I should have explained all this before you went off to Krownest, but everything happened so quick… I'm sorry for keeping you waiting.

"I changed who GRG-892 was so that people wouldn't assume that he was on our side and assume he's a Rebel sympathizer within the Empire, which he's very much not. I wanted to make sure nobody would think that only to get shot in the face.

"I didn't tell them about KE-01's… other aspect because… because…" He felt his face warm slightly. "Because he was a clone of me, with all my memories… and I didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea.

"Things have been going pretty well over here. Zeb and I just raided Jedha and got a few hundred Kyber crystals, so that's good. Chopper Base isn't as colorful without you around, in a strictly literal sense. In all honesty, it feels kind of… empty. Barren. Like something's coming that we can't hope to stop. How have you been holding up against Clan Saxon? Hope you're doing well and aren't, you know, dead. Bye."

The True Light Grandmaster ended the message, feeling just a tad awkward. Deciding he had nothing else to do, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

 **!0*0!**

 _Kastan awoke in a respectably-sized crater. Presumably, the fall from the last dream had carried over into this one, as evidenced by the same scenery and the ghost of pain nestled deep within his core._

 _On the outskirts of the impact site were the KE units, still wearing their domino masks. The True Light paragon used the lapse in action to Force Heal his wounds and move on._

 _Two doors were situated in front of him. He recognized the leftmost one as the one he had entered what seemed to be an eternity ago. It housed Brenda's dead body and a weeping Thrawn. If he stayed here, his dream would be condemned to a slow death in the bowels of Emperor Palpatine. Making his decision, KE-00 entered the right door. As he turned to close it, he noticed that all of his clones were right outside, simply staring at him. Each was now equipped with a scarlet red lightsaber._

 _Kastan turned to see a dimension of fire. He was in what once had been a large city, now ravaged by a ceaseless war. It was in ruins, aflame, dying._

 _He turned to see an organized crew of stormtroopers stalk forwards, pushing purple-skinned individuals with sharp pikes towards a massive pit. Suddenly, G5-81356 was falling sideways, towards the abyss, until he was floating directly above it, out of range of the Lasats being pushed into it. As they fell, gravity once again took hold, as Kastan Enderbeck fell, fell, fell, fell, fell forever…_

Gasping for breath, Kastan awoke and slammed his head into Hera's lifeless eyes.

 _A dream within a dream. Doesn't this sound familiar…_

 _The Twi'lek in front of him had been hung from the ceiling by her own lekku, which had been chopped off of her skull and used to hang her prone body from the roof above._

 _He heard a lightsaber ignite behind him. The True Light Paragon whirled around to see KE-01, wielding Ezra's forest green lightsaber. Kastan drew his sword from hammerspace to avenge the evidently defeated Jedi, only to have his weapon promptly chopped in twain. Apparently, the cortosis weave didn't exist in the dreamworld._

 _Scrambling away, Kastan clawed his way towards the exit, foot after agonizing foot. Beyond the door was probably some other horror, but it was better than this._ Anything _was better than this… feeling of hopelessness. To be defeated by oneself…_

 _He was there. Finally there._

 _The door opened for him to admit another KE-01, wielding a sapphire blue lightsaber. The clone grinned maliciously, sadistically, evilly as he plunged Kanan's lightsaber into Kastan's skull._

The True Light Paragon awoke with a start, almost falling out of his bed. Shaking his head to dispel the fleeting image of terror plaguing his mind, the True Light Grandmaster sat back, to divine the message the Force had to be sending him from within the nightmares.

It was going to be a long night.

 **!0*0!**

 **About that explanation I promised… here it is. All those memories that Kastan had were true… in a sense. They just weren't necessarily his. Remember that Kastan is also a clone with the memories of all those people who share his genes. I would explain why that is, but I'm lazy and it's stupidly complicated. It's a thing, I promise. Kastan's true memories begin after the Battle of Geonosis, when he was born at the apparent age of seven. All it really took was a few mind-alterings to the Enderbeck Family and some Jedi on Sidious' part, and everything was hunky-dory. So Kastan is twenty years old, but he believes that he was born ten years before the rise of the Empire. However, Kastan was, in fact, 'born' in 3 BBY, or just after the Battle of Geonosis.**

 **Also, just a quick beta fact: When I was originally writing SWI, it crossed my mind that neurons work with electricity. The Dark Side of the Force allows users to manipulate electricity to create Force Lightning… why not use the Force to manipulate thought? Make people see things that aren't there, and remember things that never happened? Or vice versa? So from here on out, we'll call this ability 'Mind Hacking'. It just sounds powerful.**

 **Anyway, that was Chapter 6 of SWR. If you liked it, leave a review explaining what you liked and why, as well as how I could improve. If you didn't like it, leave a review anyway explaining what you didn't like and why, as well as how I could improve it. It's not hard, I swear.**


	7. Twin Suns, but With the True Light (P1)

**Gentlemen… today is a good day. We finally got one. A review. Technically, it's three reviews from the same person, which is even better! So you get the ultimate kudos, Mr. Belmakori. We also got a review from CaptainCakeless113, who is a GOD of the SW/SW crossover fics. I'm not kidding. His fic, "The Legend Reborn", is probably the best SW fanfic I've ever read ever. Go read it once you finish this chapter; it'll revive your faith in fanfic.**

 **With that out of the way, welcome to Chapter 7. I would tell you what's going on in this chapter, but that would be telling.**

 _ **RRRP:**_

 _ **Belmakori Review on SW:I: You might want to be a bit more creative with your names. Kastan is fine, but Brenda, George, eg. I'd try to come up with something different.**_

 _ **Me: And Luke or Han isn't a common name? Ok, but there's a reason behind those two. I chose Brenda because I wanted to paint the Enderbecks as ordinary people. I originally was going to name George Greg, but then my dad, whose name is George, walked in on me writing the early drafts and was all like "aww, you named a character after me!" And I just died for about twenty minutes laughing hysterically. But the name stuck.**_

 _ **Belmakori on SW:R: I see your writing has improved.**_

 _ **Me: Thanks!**_

 _ **Belmakori on SW:R: Kabam shut down Uprising? I thought my computer was just being dumb.**_

 _ **Me: Yeah, I thought so too until I saw the news. Now I play Star Wars: Galaxy of Heroes instead.**_

 _ **CaptainCakeless113: They definitely have potential and they seem interesting, also sometimes it seemed you were forcing dialogue to conform to scenes when it didn't fit the character. (Don't worry, it's not a huge deal, I used to have the same problem) But with experience, that problem will disappear. All in all, I think you're doing well thus far.**_

 _ **Me: I like to think that I write good dialogue, but I know that I only do that for my OC's. This is mainly because I have a hard time worming my way into another person's mind and walking around in it, so I'm unsure of what someone would say and when. Because of this, I take a "The Last Jedi"-style approach towards dialogue to action; I know where I want them to go, but I don't really end up caring if I go slightly OOC to get to that situation.**_

 **DISCLAIMER: If I owned Star Wars, Revan would still be canon, and KABAM would bring Star Wars: Uprising back. Since neither of those things are happening, I do not own Star Wars. No duh.**

 _Chapter 7: Twin Suns, but with the True Light (Pt. 1)_

 **!0*0!**

"Lost. I am lost. And yet… I can feel his presence. So close. So close. I can see him. In my mind's eye. Kenobi… KENOBI!"

The Zabrak Sith spread his arms to the twin stars of Tatooine as he screamed the name of his most hated foe. It turned out that searching an entire planet's worth of sand, dust, bantha excrement, and grit for a person who didn't want to be found was, to say the least, extraordinarily difficult.

The echo of 'Kenobi' wafted over the endless beige dunes. The Sith didn't want to die by any stretch of the imagination. Internally, he vowed to destroy the Jedi if it was the last thing he would do.

An idea slowly formed in the dark recesses of his mind, and Maul smirked evilly as he glanced at the shards of a Jedi Holocron.

 **!0*0!**

 _He couldn't move an inch._

 _Kastan glanced at his surroundings. There was no light or other defining features in the room, but judging by the blood eagerly flowing to his head, the True Light paragon was upside down._

 _He had been stuck to some kind of circle hung against the wall by rusty nails that pierced his clothes, effectively keeping him pinned to said wall like a human tapestry._

 _A small collection of mask-wearing clones approached, and then more and more and more, filling the room with their presence. They approached with more rusty nails, and hammers, and spent a solid half-hour simply banging the reddened iron into his skin. His body became dominated by the acute pain, and it took far too long to die down._

 _Suddenly, the world started spinning, smearing the darkened room in hues of black, grey, and the stark, blood red lightsabers of hundreds upon thousands of KE's. Kastan began to feel nauseous, as sometimes the direction of spin would change completely without losing any velocity. A blaster shot would ring out on occasion, just narrowly missing his skull as he rotated quicker and quicker._

 _A veritable ocean of Sith Clones started stalking forwards, lightsabers ignited, ready for the kill. The spinning abruptly stopped, leaving the True Light Grandmaster dazed and confused._

 _Every inch of space near Kastan was promptly stabbed by their lightsabers. He wouldn't have moved even if he could. Occasionally, a droplet of blood would fizzle on the superheated edge of a Sith lightsaber, enveloping the room in the acrid scent of frying skin and burning blood_

 _The lightsabers closed in, slowly rending through the clothes of the Insurgent, and then made agonizing contact with his tanned skin, eliciting screams of agony from G5-81356. From the corner of his rapidly fading vision, he could see his closest companions, within the True Light and without, being forced to watch by a masked KE-01._

" _There are no false alarms," a KE unit whispered in Kastan's ear as his vision finally faded to a merciful black._

The True Light Paragon awoke in a cold sweat. For a fraction of a fraction of an instant, he thought his hands were covered in mottled, bloody scars before they returned to its usual beige, compounded with a particularly nasty migraine. Shaking his head, Kastan decided to rejoin the world of the living and maybe find something to do that wasn't torture.

 **!0*0!**

"So what are the holocrons trying to say?" Kanan inquired.

"I'm certain of it," Ezra pushed. "Master Kenobi's life is in danger; Maul is after him right now!"

"It would be a miracle if General Kenobi was alive, certainly," Rex acknowledged. "But Senator Organa confirmed his death almost twenty years ago."

"Well, then Senator Organa is wrong!"

"It could have easily just been a glitched recording," Hera reasoned.

"If it was a broken record, why would Maul be in it?" Ezra argued.

"Maul has tricked us before," Kanan said thoughtfully, his vacant eyes expressing no emotion.

"Even if he is tricking us, it's still worth investigating. I'm going to Tatooine to check things out."

He was about to turn and walk out of the room, if it were not for a certain Twi'lek pilot dragging him the opposite direction.

"Need I remind you that we are planning an attack on the Star Forge?" Hera chided once they were out of earshot. "We need as many people with Force powers as we can get."

"And Kenobi isn't a Force user? He could easily assist us with the assault!"

"If he was alive, do you think he would be hiding on some backwater world instead of helping us? I wish things were different, but we all need you here for the mission."

"I'm perfectly committed to the Star Forge assault and the Lothal mission, thank you very much," Ezra replied.

"I understand what you're going through. Just make the right choice."

With that, the pair vacated the area and rejoined the others.

Hera turned right, towards the remainder of the force, to flesh out a concrete strategy for their Star Forge assault. Ezra traveled left as discreetly as possible, towards the landing ports.

Meanwhile, Kastan had finally rejoined the waking world, clutching his head tightly like it might fall off if he let go. The True Light paragon wasn't looking where he was walking, and collided with the neophyte Jedi.

Luckily for their egos, neither was swept off their feet, although both were significantly disoriented. Blinking to regain some semblance, of control, Ezra took a long look at the True Light Grandmaster for the first time in days.

It wasn't a pretty sight.

Deep, purple bags had accumulated under his eyes. At times, it looked like he would nod off completely, but he never did. Physically, his body was just the same as Ezra remembered it, but it looked… overused. Like Kas hadn't taken the time to relax in the last few days that he desperately deserved.

"Sorry about that. Bad migraine," Kastan explained, still clutching his skull. "I've been having them a lot recently. How did the mission go?"

"I'd say it went pretty well, given that Fulcrum is now informed of the threat," Ezra asserted. "Do you want me to grab you some aspirin or something?"

"It goes away with time," Kastan assured. "Faster if I'm doing something."

Ezra stood still for a moment, contemplating what he had heard. "Well… I'm going on another mission. To Tatooine. Now that you're here… want to tag along?"

"I should probably check up on the True Light enclave there anyway," Kastan acknowledged.

"Didn't you do that when we got the Star Map?" Ezra inquired.

"Yeah, but a lot could have happened in a few weeks. Force knows it did for me."

"Did you ever heal your arm?" Ezra asked. Indeed, said arm lay limp at Kastan's side.

"Well… no. I decided to keep it the way it is, as a reminder of who and what I am. Anyway, I'll go with you because I really don't have anything else to do. When do we leave?"

"As soon as possible," Ezra assured, slightly put off by Kastan's flippant answer.

 **!0*0!**

Attacking Ilum had certainly been difficult for Clan Wren. It was one of the few planets in the Outer Rim that the Empire had vehemently conquered due to its abundance in Force Crystals. It was also a major foothold of Clan Saxon in the Outer Rim, and therefore, a vital planet with which to strike further into Clan Saxon territory.

However, with the assistance of a True Light enclave, Sabine's strike force had managed to wipe the Empire off the face of the planet. There would have been much fanfare, had there been many sentient life-forms on the frozen world.

Regardless, the Empire had long since done its damage to Ilum, almost completely draining it of its precious Kyber crystals; whilst the Rebels had linked it to an "Operation Stardust", they had yet to decipher what that operation entailed.

From one frozen world to another, as Krownest reappeared above the small ship Sabine and her cohorts were currently located in. Landing and dismounting was a simple procedure, and sooner than expected, the Wren Stronghold came back into view.

Throwing off their sweat-encrusted helms, the strike force re-entered the Wren Stronghold, exposing their faces to the dry, frozen air.

The euphoria of the moment hadn't really hit home for Sabine yet. Not the battle-induced wartime exhilaration that she had been familiar with for a long time. No, she was absolutely adoring being reunited with Clan Wren. She felt liberated by not having to be chained to her past any longer. And it was positively heavenly.

"Sabine! Are you even listening?"

Tristan's bark broke the Mandalorian out of her thoughts. "Sorry, what was that?"

Tristan rolled his eyes in the way only a younger brother could. "I had asked you to report on the mission."

"Attacking Ilum wasn't easy," Sabine recounted. "We didn't see much of Clan Saxon, but the Empire itself was positively swarming on the planet. If it wasn't for the True Light enclave that happened to be on the surface, the mission would have almost certainly been a complete failure. However, we did manage to wipe Saxon's people off Ilum as well as scare off most of the Empire, even if the Jedi Temple's interior structure collapsed while we were in it."

"Good. Having a foothold in Sector G7 will be very beneficial to the fight. Dismissed."

Tristan's time under Gar Saxon had certainly changed the Mandalorian. He was significantly more militaristic, more tense. He was always ready to move, to pull out a rifle and shoot a threat. And it was Sabine's fault.

 _No_ , she thought. _Don't follow that train of thought._

"Understood, Captain," Sabine replied before turning heel and strolling to her own quarters.

"Oh, and before I forget," Tristan called. "Mother wanted to talk to you about something. I suggest doing that immediately."

Sabine simply nodded in response and departed to the Throne Room.

 **!0*0!**

The small shuttle exited hyperspace over the barren world of Tatooine. Today, it shone a gold that hurt the eye too much to be looked at directly, unless you were Chopper and didn't have eyes. Ezra gingerly directed the shuttle towards the dark side of the planet, where he knew the enclave was located.

"I hate this planet," Kastan lamented. "What are we even supposed to be doing here, anyway?"

"Uh… Hera and Kanan sent me to track down Maul on the surface," Ezra lied. "I figured you and Chop could assist me."

"You could have just as easily gone to the True Light enclave on the surface and gotten their help," Kastan argued. "You didn't need to drag me into it."

"In all honesty, I forgot that that existed," the Padawan admitted sheepishly. "We can use it as a base of operations. Besides, I felt that you needed to get out of Chopper Base, because Hera told me that you're training yourself the brink of death and back every day."

Kastan rolled his eyes at the remark, and fixed his attention once more on the swiftly growing planet in front of him. Taking the wheel, the True Light Paragon gingerly piloted the small craft towards what at first appeared to be a beaten-down Tusken enclave. But they knew different. Thanks to their time on Tatooine, the Rebels knew that this particular enclave was, in fact, the primary headquarters of the True Light, as well as the site of their creation.

Almost immediately, similarly to the last time they had entered True Light space, all their instruments suddenly jammed, started malfunctioning, or simply stopped working. The on-board communicator blared to life.

"Who goes there?" A distinctly feminine voice emanated.

"Kastan Enderbeck, status 'Grandmaster', passcode 'Boundless986'," Kastan replied.

"Sir, you forgot the false-alarm code," the voice pointed out snobbishly.

"Since when has there been a false-alarm code?" Kastan mused.

"Good, you're verified. Proceed to docking bay B," the voice praised.

Just as suddenly as they were shut down, the tech in the shuttle started up again, as if nothing had happened.

The landing went surprisingly smoothly. Much of the True Light present had appeared to meet up with their leader. The next half-hour, at least, was spent catching up with the various peoples of the enclave, who ranged from short, stout Ugnaughts to dark-skinned humans to sentients too fantastical for Ezra to name. They hadn't stayed at the actual True Light Enclave during their last expedition to Tatooine to cover up the Star Map; the crew had opted to purchase a hotel room in nearby Anchorhead under false names to disguise their true intentions from the locals. Besides, the True Light enclave was farther away, and had less resources.

Their timing was poor. Daybreak was nigh, and only a fool would voluntarily strand themselves in the desert to be cooked by the high temperatures the planet offered. Deeming it the better option, the group decided to stay at the enclave until night once again overtook the land.

"He's right there. About eighty miles that-a-way," Kastan said, emerging from meditation. He pointed in a seemingly random direction. The assembled force-users, however, knew different; they had also joined their Grandmaster in meditation, and had also pinpointed the Sith's location.

"He's been moving in the same direction for the last three days," a Zabrack informed. "Treie and the rest of the Shadowatch have been tracking his location for a while now."

"Tell her thanks for me, will you?" Kastan asked. The Zabrack nodded.

"Our friend Ezra knows Maul the best," the True Light paragon continued. "His knowledge on this particular Sith will be invaluable. Beyond that, a small party should definitely be sent out to crush him. After he's done beelining this way, he's probably going to double back and attack the enclave."

"Still, he's one man," a Tortuga pointed out. "You'd think that with all the Force-wielders we have in the enclave would be able to defend well enough."

"One of our own lives lost is one life too many," Kastan argued. The Tortuga nodded and stepped back.

"What is Maul on Tatooine here for, anyway?" an Ugnaught said. "There's nothing here except for sand, grit, and dust."

"He's here for Kenobi," Ezra said suddenly. "He's here for revenge."

The members of the True Light turned and looked at him like they'd just realized his existence. Or like he'd spontaneously grown another head.

"With all due respect, Mr. Bridger, if Obi-Wan Kenobi was here, we would have sensed it by now," a human female said, stepping into the room. Her attire threw Ezra off guard; she wore full black robes with a gold chestplate situated in the center. "And by proxy, the Empire would have sensed him too."

"Good to see that you've joined the party, Kreie," Kastan greeted. Kreie only snorted mirthfully in response. "But whatever the reason, we are all in agreement that this Maul must be stopped, correct?"

"Of course," everyone chorused.

"Good. Myself, Ezra, and the Shadowatch will take some speeders and confront him, defeat him. We'll attack tonight, under the cover of darkness. The rest of us will defend the enclave on the off chance we get ourselves trapped, defeated, or lost. Understood?"

"Understood!" the group replied before filing out of the room in an orderly fashion.

The woman Kastan had labeled as Kreie stepped forwards, not following everyone else. She exuded an aura of mystery, power, and self-assuredness.

"Grandmaster. We need to talk," she said, thrusting something into his hands. He glanced at it, and then looked at her with a face that screamed stunned confusion

"Treie… how…"

"We'll talk about it in a few," the lady said flippantly before dragging Kastan out of the room into the inner echelons of the enclave.

Ezra glanced at Chopper, who had put itself into sleep mode, before getting up to explore Kastan's enclave.

 **!0*0!**

"You wanted to speak with me?" Sabine inquired.

"Yes, indeed," Ursa Wren replied. "I needed to ask you something."

"What's that?"

"Who is he?"

The question threw the younger of the two off guard. She cocked an eyebrow. "Who's who, Mother?"

"The person who sent you a call when you were on the mission to Ilum," Ursa stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Give me back my communicator, Mother," Sabine drawled.

"Not until you tell me who he is."

Sabine rolled her eyes. "Fine. Let's give it a listen."

The Clan Wren matriarch pulled her daughter's communicator out of her pocket, pressed a few buttons, and then set it down on the table to let _Kastan's_ tinny voice fill the room.

" _I realized that I never had the opportunity to explain to you everything that happened on the_ Vanguard _,"_ he started. " _So I figured I might as well do it now."_

A knowing expression crossed Sabine's face. _That would explain Mother's paranoia,_ she thought

" _The reason I hid the fact that I'm a Sith Clone is to not cause any unnecessary hesitation for anyone involved. We were about to attack the Star Forge, and the last thing anyone has to worry about is me being allied with the Empire. In hindsight, I should have explained all this before you went off to Krownest, but everything happened so quick… I'm sorry for keeping you waiting._

 _I suppose that's logical,_ she thought. _Easy to misinterpret by literally anyone, but logical all the same._

" _I changed who GRG-892 was so that people wouldn't assume that he was on our side and assume he's a Rebel sympathizer within the Empire, which he's very much not. I wanted to make sure nobody would think that only to get shot in the face._

 _Again, makes sense,_ she thought.

" _I didn't tell them about KE-01's… other aspect because… because… because he was a clone of me, with all my memories… and I didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea._

Sabine felt her face flush slightly. _At least he had enough sense to not state what said aspect was._

" _Things have been going pretty well over here. Zeb and I just raided Jedha and got a few hundred Kyber crystals, so that's good. Chopper Base isn't as colorful without you around, in a strictly literal sense. In all honesty, it feels kind of… empty. Barren. Like something's coming that we can't hope to stop. How have you been holding up against Clan Saxon? Hope you're doing well and aren't, you know, dead. Bye."_

Ursa Wren turned to Sabine, eyebrow cocked. It was evident that she wanted an explanation.

"His name is Kastan Enderbeck," Sabine began. "He's an associate of the Rebellion with a particularly powerful connection to the Force. Saved my life plenty of times."

"He's a Jedi?"

"No," Sabine clarified. "He runs a cult of Force-users that embrace both sides of the Force. Some of them helped us secure Ilum."

"Tell me more about this Kastan character," Ursa pushed. It was obvious that she didn't care for the semantics of what Kastan did so much as who he was and why he had called her. "Explain the call."

"As you know, the Empire somewhat recently captured us over Dantooine," Sabine explained. "Kastan had been detained on Manaan after fighting Darth Vader and losing. They also let him know that they had started cloning him to create a Force-wielding Sith army. We met one of them on the _Vanguard_ , the Star Destroyer on which we had been captured.

"We later escaped, assisted by Commander GRG-892. He certainly wasn't a Rebel, and reminded us of that often. He simply wanted to keep his job secure and knew that a complete phase change to the KE units was coming quickly."

Her mother nodded. "Carry on."

"The Emperor himself also informed Kastan that he was a clone, too, and that a third of his life was a complete lie. And to add insult to injury, the clone we met, KE-01, is probably the most sadistic, psychopathic, sociopathic, moronic, oxygen-wasting, ugly, nerf-herding, volatile, deranged, insane, politically incorrect, asinine, depraved piece of shit to ever exist in the galaxy."

Ursa Wren was silent for a moment, processing the information she had just heard. A part of her was disgusted; surely the clone of this Kastan is a carbon copy of the original, with the same thought processes, the same ideologies, the same base instincts. Another part of her was content that her daughter seemed to trust this man. Yet another fraction of her was furious that this man could just casually call her daughter like it meant nothing to her.

A smaller part of her was hopeful, that this could get off the ground and blossom into something more.

"Kastan mentioned a Star Forge. I've never heard of such a thing. What is it?" the Clan Wren matriarch inquired, genuinely interested.

"The Star Forge is a massive space factory that can create a ridiculous amount of tech with a minimum of time and resources. The Empire is currently using it to build towards some huge Operation, which will start in about one rotation. Kastan and a few of my other friends have been working to destroy it for a long time now. We were going to attack just a half-rotation ago… wonder how they're doing now."

She pursed her lips. "I see. You are dismissed, Sabine."

"Thank you, Mother," her daughter replied curtly before turning and walking out of the room.

 **!0*0!**

 _My powers are wasted on this station,_ KE-04 thought.

The Sith Clone was livid to an extreme extent. The Star Forge was perfectly safe, and if there was one thing KE-04 hated more than anything, it was doing nothing. This particular Sith Clone was arguably the most unhinged of the current roster, a symptom of over-cloning a Force-sensitive strand. Sure, creating nightmares was somewhat fun, in a sadistic and twisted manner, but it had become little more than busywork. What KE-04 wanted was power. Power over the Galaxy, over peoples, over life and death itself. The Sith Clone had an audacity about him, a vaulting ambition that drove him to steal a Sith Holocron from Emperor Palpatine himself to learn more on how to achieve his ultimate goal.

Knowledge was power. And KE-04 lusted after power.

A facet of power was individuality. To be completely separate from all other parties. A clone, a tool, a means to an end, could never gain true power, for as long as he was indistinguishable from the plethora of copies the Empire would spew forth, he would be nothing but an instrument for another to wield. Who knows; someday another KE unit with the ability to Mind Hack would come along, and KE-04 would be discarded with all the rest of the refuse.

Each clone's identity was unique; each essentially took a 'snapshot' of the Old Geezer's mental condition at the time of their procreation, and made a clone with a personality based on that snapshot. KE-02, for example, was calm and collected on the surface with inner rage broiling just hidden from view. KE-03 was more concerned with staying alive than anything else. KE-05 was far too subdued, too mellow, for the Empire's purposes, perhaps a deliberate effort from the Old Geezer to reestablish control over his mind. KE-05 was given the name Kezn Skirata and sent to the Empire's Public Relations Department. KE-03 was envious of Kezn's privelege.

All the galaxy was but an enormous powderkeg just waiting for a spark to plunge it into full-scale war.

 **!0*0!**

"We felt the call of the Mantle of the Force," Treie explained. "It led us into a Star Destroyer. The _Vanguard_ , I believe."

They had sat down at a table in a particularly secluded part of the enclave's library. They had spent the last ten minutes catching up, although Kastan's odd new hair color was the subject of a lot of it. He had asked her how she had retrieved Revan's lightsaber in the first place. She had explained.

She could see the color slowly drain from her leader's face. The Force didn't need to tell her that he knew exactly what she was going to mention.

"And on the way… we ran into you. Or at least one of your clones."

There it was; the Grandmaster had gone completely pale.

"Yeah," he started. "I finally figured out why the hell the Empire wanted me alive so badly. They just wanted to make an army of Force-sensitive clones."

"The Darkness within you tells a different story", she noted. "There's something you've been holding back, Kastan. And by the demand of the Master of this Enclave and the Leader of the Dark Faction, you will explain this to me."

"Isn't that a trivial use of power, Treie Tyûk," The True Light Grandmaster inquired.

"Don't evade the question," she commanded.

"Fine," Kastan said, feeling more defeated than usual (which was saying a lot.) "I may or may not totally be a clone too and now I've been having a crisis of identity where I end up questioning my own existence and the meaning of this gnawing feeling inside my chest that wants to rip out of my flesh and consume the galaxy to end its unending hunger, only to find that nothing can truly sate it and it will simply rip the fabric of space and time apart into a trillion meaningless pieces of nothingness on a fool's quest for sanctuary!"

It had been an unspoken consensus amongst the True Light to practically worship the dirt that their leader had trodden upon. They did it unconsciously, never having noticed of their own mindless veneration of their leader. Kastan had noticed this rather quickly, and made a point to eradicate the behavior.

His efforts were fruitless.

Treie was one of the few who Kastan could respect, relate to on a certain level. She had been one of the Emperor's Hands in the early years of the Empire as simply Kograx, but soon became disillusioned by the slow pace of the Emperor's teachings and escaped during an early coup on the Emperor's life. She had later changed her name in honor of Darth Traya, her personal ideal. Perhaps that was why he was so gravitated towards her as an accomplice, a friend; they had had similar backgrounds without even knowing.

The fact was that many of the members of the True Light had simply forgotten that Kastan Enderbeck, their infallible leader through thick and thin, was still a person, with his own complex cocktail of emotions. He had his devotion to duty, his love of knowledge, his inability to come to grips with so many trivial things yet could easily grasp even the most complex of Force abilities with natural ease. But most of all, the thirty-year-old was afraid. Afraid for the safety of others should he fall. He had seen how people grew to rely on him, depend on him; what would happen if he died? All those who necessitated his life would fall apart, creating a ripple effect that may very well bring about the end of the True Light and the Rebellion itself.

Treie said nothing for a while, allowing her companion to purge the unrelenting waves of sadness, guilt, self-loathing, and worthlessness pouring off of him. From her angle, she could tell that his eyes were brimming with salty tears.

"The worst part is, he's still out there. The clone who broke me," Kastan finally croaked.

"Is he?" Treie inquired, eyeing Revan's lightsaber. "I seem to remember someone stabbing him with this."

For the second time that day, Kastan appeared dumbfounded. He looked at the lightsaber, and lo and behold, there were stains of dried blood caked on the surface of the hilt.

 _They're just as nothing as me. Just as human. Just as vulnerable. Just as strong._

Kastan closed his eyes, recalling KE-01's psychopathic behavior, his advances on Sabine, the pain he had inflicted, before letting the clone die in the back of his mind. A slight grin graced his angular features as he felt at peace for the first time in a long time.

"Treie… Thank you."

Kastan glanced up at the setting sun through the small hole in the rafters above them.

"Damn, we wasted too much time chatting. We should probably prepare for Maul, shouldn't we?"

"Good point," Treie confirmed before the both departed for opposite ends of the enclave.

 **!0*0!**

Maul knocked on the door. His appearance was more or less hidden by the darkening dusk. He had been wandering for hours, sustaining himself on the fleeting energies of the Jedi Holocron.

"Who is it?" A voice called from the other side.

"A traveller who's been lost for quite some time," Maul replied. "Dusk is falling, and it's like hell freezing over.

"Couldn't agree with you more, stranger," the voice concurred, opening the door to the Zabrak. "Name's Owen. Owen Lars. Yourself?"

"Call me Blok, Owen," Maul replied, strolling through the open door respectfully.

"So what brings you to these parts?" Owen asked politely as they sat down at a table.

"I've been searching for someone who's wronged me, and I know he's on the planet," the Zabrak explained. "Have you ever heard of an Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Owen appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Can't say the name Obi-Wan rings any bells… But I have heard of a Ben Kenobi. Crazy old kook who lives further into the Dune Sea. I know I don't want anything to do with him, and neither does anyone in the family. Isn't that _right_ , Luke?"

"Yeah, Uncle Owen," a random teenager whined.

They made small talk for a while before Owen suddenly cursed. He got up from his seat and glanced outside through the miniscule window near the ceiling.

"Looks like a storm's coming. We can offer you a place for the night," the man offered.

"I'd hate to be a trouble," Maul replied patiently. "The sooner I can exact vengeance, the sooner I can put my mind at rest."

"Are you sure about that?" Owen asked, his expression saying something closer to 'are you insane?' "The sandstorms can get really bad…"

"I assure you, I'll be fine," the Sith replied, draining his cup of water before stepping back out into the night to slay Kenobi once and for all.

 **!0*0!**

 **I was going to make Chapter 7 longer, but I totally ran out of time. I'm doing away with theme songs, because holy _, I need less to worry about. Finals start this Friday, I have the worst sore throat in my life, and I haven't updated in, like, a week. Don't expect the next chapter until August or something, because I'm totally swamped for the remainder of the summer. Yay.**

 **Love it? Loathe it? Want to run out into the desert to murder me with a lightsaber and crush my friend's child's hopes and dreams? Then please, for the love of god, review, review, review. It doesn't take that long and it makes my day… Not that I'd know, because I never get reviews.**


	8. Twin Suns, but With the True Light (P2)

**To think that I uploaded the first chapter of Star Wars: Insurgency almost 8 months ago! Also, this story recently(ish) got its first favorite! Yay, new milestones!**

 **Also, we got ourselves another new review this time, which is more than I can really express emotion for. Thank you all so much.**

 **RRRP: Guest: I see that you used the KOTOR powers as a model for those of the True Light. Is there a separate enclave for every Force Power? And what powers does Kastan have?**

 _Me: There's a separate enclave for every Force Power Progression Tree (Stun, Stasis, and Stasis Field are all taught at one enclave, but Force Armor is taught at a different one). And Kastan currently knows Heal, Death Field, Destroy Droid, Stasis Field, Force Wave, Force Storm, Knight Speed, Force Aura, and Force Tracking (a Neutral ability that allows Kastan to easily pinpoint a Force-sensitive individual. It's only a Level 1 Ability)._

 **Anyway, without further ado, I present to you: Chapter 8 of Star Wars: Retribution. I also decided to put Star Wars: Aberration on the backburner indefinitely, at least until this is done.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I have about thirty dollars to my name. If I owned Star Wars, I'd have a few million. Therefore, I don't own Star Wars.**

 _Chapter 8: Twin Suns, but With The True Light (Pt. 2)_

 **!0*0!**

"How close are we to the Star Map?" Ezra asked.

"Not very far," Kastan revealed. "It's possible that Maul is trying to use the dark-side aura of the Star Map to hide his own Force signature."

A howling noise suddenly began to emanate throughout the scorched sand dunes. To their chagrin, the sun had just set, reducing visibility to near zero.

"Treie, are you picking up any signals?" Kastan inquired.

"Maul's signature is beelining for the Star Map," Treie informed. "It's possible that he knows something we don't. Also, that wailing noise is a dust storm. We either have to turn around and wait for another day, or we plunge forth into the storm."

"The more we wait, the more time we waste," Kastan decided. "Let's keep moving."

"Grandmaster, are you sure that's wise?" A True Light member said in some level of shock.

"We're all Force-users here," Kastan declared. "Surely we can manipulate the dust particles around us to keep us more or less unscathed."

"We'll run out of energy," the member countered. "This storm looks abnormally large."

"I suppose we could try to find a nearby cave of sorts," Treie reasoned.

"That would work," the member admitted. "I just don't want any of us to become martyrs for this."

Chopper uttered something about the unlikelihood of there being any shelter in the vicinity, but was instantly proven wrong by a sandcrawler eking its way over a nearby dune. Seeing the vehicle, Kastan released a surge of Force Lightning into the air to hail it. The sandcrawler promptly turned around and disappeared back behind the sand dune. Closer inspection revealed that it was nothing but a mirage.

"Dammit," Kastan swore. "We have to push forward."

Nearly everyone agreed, and trekked further into the storm.

 **!0*0!**

The energies of the holocron had been completely drained twice over. He had managed to refuel the holocron with some black structure in a cave that was emanating dark energies, which only steeled his resolve to kill Kenobi. Kenobi. Kenobi. Every effort would be worth it. Every expense would be justified if it only meant the death of his greatest nemesis.

Night had fallen. It would be the last sunset Obi-Wan Kenobi would ever see.

Fueled by the last vestiges of his rage, the Zabrak Sith plunged forward into the night.

 **!0*0!**

The group hadn't found a shelter in time.

Although they had managed to keep the dust and grit at bay, the rough winds were still capable of tossing them around like rags; or at least, the True Light members certainly felt that way. Chopper's assertion had been correct in that they wouldn't find a modicum of safety from the terrain.

Fluid darker shapes began flitting in and out of the group's vision, but they all passed it off as either a symptom of dehydration or a mirage of some sort. Both of these assumptions proved incorrect, however, as the group was beset by Tusken Raiders screaming war cries. Caught off guard, the Force Wielders dropped their protective dust shield just as a massive boulder hurtled in out of nowhere from the sandy abyss. The crew, startled, instinctively dove to either side of the boulder, where the sand and grit completely separated the two groups. Blaster bolts from the Tuskens began hailing down on the group, and without any way to protect themselves, the True Light found themselves in between a rock and a hard place.

That is, until they accidentally found the other group again. Suddenly, unwittingly outnumbered, the Tuskens found the tide of battle to suddenly swing to the traveler's favor as they annihilated first one half, then the other. The storm still hadn't let up; usually, storms were either gentle and long or fierce and short. To have the worst aspects of both incarnations of storm was hardly a welcoming sign.

They didn't notice until later that one of them was gone.

 **!0*0!**

"You are in the wrong place, Ezra Bridger."

The neophyte Jedi awoke groggily to the dewback and lamp- Chopper? - to see the cloaked figure he had tried to stave off from Kastan just instants before his memory blanked.

"... Master Kenobi?"

"Hm. So you have heard of me," the wizened Jedi affirmed. "But as I said, you are in the wrong place."

"Master Kenobi! Maul is coming. You have to get out of here!" You-"

"One does not get this old being foolish," Kenobi remarked. "You will take the dewback back to the True Light enclave. It knows the way."

"But we can fight him! We can-"

"I had no intention of fighting Maul, but it has become inevitable," Kenobi interrupted. "And I still have no intention of letting you fight Maul in any capacity."

"But the holocrons…" Ezra trailed off. "They said you were going to help us destroy the Sith."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"And we need your help to fight the Empire."

"The Rebellion already has all it needs," Kenobi assured. "And you are letting it go."

"Then why would the holocrons send me here?"

"Maul used the holocrons to manipulate you. They sent you here at his whim," Kenobi explained.

Ezra was about to retort, saying something about how holocrons couldn't lie, but he restrained himself. He had once said something similar about the Jedi as a whole. And it wasn't hard to figure out how wrong that was.

A silhouette made itself known on the outskirts of the little camp.

"Go, Ezra Bridger. And don't come back," the old man said, not angrily at all.

Reluctantly, Ezra straddled the dewback and rode off. He turned back one last time to see the red lightsaber extinguish itself, and the Zabrak Sith slump over in Kenobi's arms.

 **!0*0!**

"I told you the Star Map could be used to disguise Force signatures!" Treie ranted. "And none of you listened! Not one!"

"The point is that the mission was successful," Kastan reassured. "Even if the semantics were chaotic."

Chopper mumbled something to the affirmative.

"Thanks for your help, Treie," Ezra said. "But we should be on our way."

"Kid, if we hadn't done anything, Maul still would have died," Treie said without a hint of emotion. "Don't accredit us with _that_ much."

Kastan chuckled. "Treie, enough. I'll be back at some point in the near future. I'll see you all then."

With that, the group turned to the Phantom IIand flew off into the sky, with Maul's own ship trailing close behind.

"Huh," Kastan mused. "15 missed calls from Hera, 7 missed calls from Commander Sato, 3 missed calls from Kanan, and they're all for you."

"And no mentions of you? Sounds about right," Ezra laughed.

Kastan rolled his eyes in annoyance as both ships blasted into hyperspace.

 **!0*0!**

"If this means what I think this means…" Zeb started.

"You'd be right," Kastan affirmed. "Our friend Maul is no longer an issue."

"We won't be seeing Maul again..." Ezra continued, "I'm sorry I ran off like that, and for dragging Kastan along with me. This is where I'm supposed to be. You're all my family and we should go home."

The Spectres embraced, excluding Kastan. The True Light paragon was content to watch the scene unfold for a bit, before walking off into the complex.

The last thing this family needed was something to drive it further apart.

 **!0*0!**

 **I tried my best to make this as meaningful as possible, but I also wanted to get it out in a slightly timely manner. So it's really short (not even 1600 words), but it's okay, because the next chapter's going to be a lot better. I hope. Probably not, because I've got 3 AP's to worry about! Don't expect the next chapter for a long time. Hell, I might even slap an "ON HIATUS" sign on this for obvious reasons.**

 **I hope you all have a wonderful time waiting for the next installment.**


	9. One Red Lightsaber's One Too Many

**So. Chapter 9. The fun finally gets to start, because we can stop wasting our time treating this like another Gary Sue story and getting to writing some decent fics. I've taken some time to recharge my writer batteries, and most importantly, finally finished reading** _ **Oathbringer**_ **by Brandon Sanderson. (It's such a good fantasy book, and I'd recommend the series to literally anyone, despite it being about… 1200 pages? That's light reading, right?) Anyway, let's dive right in to the fic.**

 **RRRP: Nothing. Kinda sad.**

 _Chapter 9: One Red Lightsaber's One Too Many_

 **!0*0!**

"Alright. Today, we're going to uncharted territory," Kastan began. "The last major battle in this system was about four millennia ago. And I am going to warn you now with absolute certainty that not all of us are going to make it back. That much is a given, even with Admiral Dodonna's fleet joining our number.

"But what matters more, one life lost to the void of space, or a million who would thank us for it? Personally, I'd go for the latter. And as Fulcrum has so helpfully let us know, 'Thrawn knows'. Knows what? Knows that we'll attack the Star Forge? That knowledge won't save him, nor will it save any of the Empire. Because they fight to secure a present, and we fight to secure a future. And I guarantee that with our present, we can decide what our future will be.

"Now, let's go show the Empire what we can do! What we can make with our steeled resolve!"

The small crowd in front of him roared in approval.

"Dismissed! Prepare your ships for battle. And if you wake to see a beautiful world, either you have won, or you are dead!"

Intermittent laughter broke out as the crowd dispersed.

 _What's the point?_ A dark corner of Kastan's mind spat. _You don't even believe half of the things you said._

 _That's not true,_ Kastan retorted. _That's_ not _true._

 _Why does the reason for fighting matter? One fights just as hard to secure a present as to secure a future. They're all going to throw their lives away, and for what? To make you feel important? And even if on the off chance that we_ do _succeed, what does that make you? You've been devoted to this cause for ages now; if this cause were to suddenly disappear, you'd lose yourself too. And I don't want that. You're so much fun to torment._

 _Where the hell are these thoughts coming from?_ Kastan asked himself.

 _From me. Technically from you, but from me. I'm you, and you're me. And you know I'm right._

 _Can it, will you?_ Kastan growled.

"Order: Master, you are to come with us immediately. Query: This is your mission, is it not?" HK-47 called, breaking the train of thought.

"Yeah, HK. It is," Kastan replied, forcing a grin on to his sullen lips. The expression looked more like that of a depressed jester learning that his family had been burnt to a crisp than one of joy, but it was the effort that counted.

The swordsman trudged onto the _Ghost_ , to the Star Forge.

To much fanfare, the fleet surged off the landing platform into the sky.

"Commander Syndulla, recent scans have shown that seven Star Destroyers have just left the Lothal system," a holographic Sato stated.

"The last time that happened, the Empire ambushed us on Garel," Ezra said, thoughtfully.

The realization hit them. Thrawn knew the rebels were on Atollon.

"Sato! Assume battle stations!" Hera ordered.

Just as they broke through the planet's atmosphere, a massive vanguard of nine Star Destroyers surged into the space just ahead of them, forcing the Rebel fleet to swerve to avoid them.

The holograms fizzled out of existence; the Empire must have been jamming all transmissions.

A good number of frigates jumped into hyperspace at Dodonna's command, but they were soon yanked out of transit by the Empire's _Interdictor_ -class Destroyers. Every last one of them was trapped.

 **!0*0!**

"This'll be fun," KE-02 grinned.

"Uh, you sure about that?" KE-03 inquired timidly. "I mean, glory to the Empire and all, but I can't give glory if I'm _dead_."

"Grow a pair, 03," KE-02 growled. We'll be going down to the surface soon and annihilating everyone. I doubt I'll even break a sweat."

"Yes, yes, all hail the Supreme Leader," 03 spat.

KE-02 smirked mirthlessly as he turned to survey the carnage unfolding from the bridge of the Destroyer. It was a newer model, one with a primary laser that could annihilate an entire city in one strike. It was a smaller version of Gaben Erso's plans for the Doom Star or something like that. KE-02 wasn't paying much attention.

He did know that Thrawn had wanted to bring more than one Interdictor ship for this conquest, as these Rebels were known to do some insane things. While his request had been denied, he had been given KE-02, KE-03, and the Emperor's own apprentice to work with.

Speak of the devil. There Vader is.

"There will be no infighting on this mission. Our primary objective is to destroy any Jedi and other Force-sensitive individuals on the planet. Our secondary objective is to ensure that no enemy starfighters leave the system alive. Loath as I am to say it, we will all need to work together to ensure victory.

"T-two of them are on that central ship, the Old Geezer among them," KE-03 stammered, pointing to the _Ghost_ against the backdrop of space. "The third one is on the planet. But there's something else… something else lurking in the shadows of that world. Something gray, something unknown."

"Then it will be your responsibility to destroy it," Vader boomed. "KE-02 and I will go into the battle personally."

"Oh yeah!" KE-02 exclaimed, pumping his fist. "Let's go slay some rebels!"

The Sith Lord grumbled something incomprehensible before stalking out of the brig, 02 happily following. Soon enough, Vader's TIE Advanced and 02's prototype TIE Marauder streaked towards the scene of the battle, ready to destroy.

KE-03 sat back, eager to make the most of his short time in command. He knew KE-02 could be… overzealous, at times, but this was only amplified when Darth Vader was present on the scene. 03 was the only one who had seen 02's other side, however; the Sith Clone wanted to become something different from just a pawn in the Emperor's games. He wanted to lead his own organization someday, and bring about a true order in the galaxy for the first time in eons. And as cowardly as he was, 03 could understand that. Somewhat.

 **!0*0!**

The _Ghost_ had pulled back to Chopper Base to regroup. The Empire's Star Destroyers had seemed oddly passive, as if they just wanted the rebels to _stay_ on Atollon for all time. They were not so passive, however, when it came to destroying ships attempting to do a hyperspace jump. Their _Interdictor_ had all engaged the gravity wells and were holding their positions vehemently. Because of this, the Rebels had pulled back as many ships as they were able to, and were preparing to rush the Empire's forces before they could muster a true defense.

Kanan had split off soon after landing, hoping to _warn someone_ , whatever that meant. He had entrusted Ezra, Kastan, and T3 in getting off the system.

"There is no way in hell I'm leaving the system," Kastan declared.

"Query: Who else would you bring, exactly?" HK-47 piped up.

"Probably you. I know you guys can't sense it, but… my Force Tracking is picking up on three very distinct signatures on the Destroyers. Two of them are me, so that means that as of this instant, KE-02 and KE-03 are up there. And our good old pal Darth Vader is with them."

"That changes our strategy immensely," Hera said. "There aren't any good options anymore."

"Were there any good options in the first place?" Dodonna said sarcastically.

"It doesn't change our strategy. We have to get off the planet somehow. I can see if I can get Treie and the Shadowatch to come to our assistance, but the Empire's been jamming all of our systems. HK, T3, I'm going to trust both of you to make the transmission as soon as you get into hyperspace. Got it? Good. Sato, I'm trusting you with getting us that opening. I'll be on the planet, using my Battle Meditation to aid you. May the Force be with us."

With that, the group split up, to carry out the maneuver.

 **!0*0!**

"Keep those TIE's off our cruisers!" Hera ordered.

"Roger that, captain," her pilots replied.

"There's too many ships to protect," Zeb grumbled as yet another Rebel cruiser exploded into dust. "Especially with those two causing problems. Even with Kastan's Battle Meditation, we're getting our heads handed to us."

As the Lasat finished speaking, the TIE Advanced rained down another bullet storm on the carriers, annihilating several. Just behind it, a starkly different TIE was just ramming straight into the Rebel ships, knocking them into their allies and destroying both. The TIE seemed made for such a purpose, with a normal TIE's wings replaced with cruel-looking spikes.

Ezra's _Gauntlet_ was faring the best, as it was able to take down even the most elusive of TIE's. In all probability, it was HK and T3's work.

"Their Destroyers aren't even moving!" Dodonna shouted. "They're just going to sit there and wait for us to dash ourselves to pieces against them!"

Commander Sato looked at the devastation, deep in thought.

"Stay sharp, everyone. Look for that opening."

"Commander Bridges, go to Heading 221 and prepare for a jump," Sato suddenly ordered.

" _What?_ " Ezra inquired, aghast. "That's suicide!"

"No more than sitting here! Just do it, Commander! That is a direct order!"

The _Guantlet_ swiftly darted forwards, as demanded.

"Now, everyone abandon ship; return to Atollon," Sato continued.

Much of the crew jumped from their positions and rushed to the escape pods; there were still a few who refused, saying that they would stay on the _Phoenix Nest_ until the very end.

"He's evacuating the carrier," Zeb informed.

Realization dawned in Hera's eyes. The suicide play wasn't Ezra's to make.

 **!0*0!**

Admiral Konstantine stared at the advancing cruiser from the bridge of his _Interdictor_ Destroyer, contempt obvious in his eyes. Here was the perfect opportunity to secure glory galore for destroying a key Rebel leader.

"Intercept that cruiser," he demanded. I want that ship blown to pieces as soon as possible."

A nearby stormtrooper captain gingerly placed his hands on either side of his face, massaging his temples in rage.

"Admiral Konstantine," GRG-892 began, "with all due respect, Grand Admiral Thrawn told us- no, _commanded_ us- to maintain position. Surely you would not jeopardize his strategy for a worthless quest for satisfaction. Surely you would not be so tactically inept."

"Inept? _Inept?!_ Thrawn's strategy is terrible! We're just sitting here and letting Vader and 02 take all the glory! It is a waste of our resources and time! Why do this when we could _attack?_ "

"Admiral, on behalf of the Grand Admiral, I order you to pull back to your position," GRG-892 threatened.

" _Pull back?!_ In our upcoming moment of triumph? I'm done with your games, Thrawn! YOU HEAR THAT?"

"There's no reasoning with stupidity, I suppose," GRG-892 sighed. Stalking past the moronic admiral, he fingered the control panel and activated the ship's communication system.

"Hello, yes, this is Captain GRG-892 speaking," the stormtrooper addressed. "If you don't want to die with this idiot, please make your way to the escape pods now. We will be rendezvousing with the _Chimeara_ effective immediately."

With that, he stalked out of the brig, many of Konstantine's men following him out.

"Spineless cur!" the admiral screeched, before turning back to the backdrop of space.

It was the perfect time for him to watch the _Phoenix Nest_ ram into the Destroyer, cleaving through the Empire ship. GRG's escape pods were only barely able to jettison just before the ensuing explosion consumed the entire craft.

 **!0*0!**

"He did it!" Ezra celebrated.

"Commentary: Now is not the time to engage in childish victory speeches, Jedi," HK warned. "Demand: Make the hyperspace jump this instant, before the Empire is able to activate another gravity well."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ezra replied before zipping off into hyperspace.

Almost instantly, HK stalked over to the comm hub in Maul's ship and punched in some inexplicable values into the system.

"Grandmaster, please enter the backup code," a distinctly feminine voice emanated.

"Statement: There is no backup code, Treie. You can stop with the games now," HK-47 chided.

"Oh, hi, HK. What's up?" Treie Tyuk asked nonchalantly.

"Answer: Space," HK remarked. "Statement: But that is not my point. The Rebel base at Atollon has been compromised. One Darth Vader and two Master knockoffs are currently present and overseeing the battle. I have contacted you from a ship belonging from the Sith that you recently killed, and have escaped the battle to garner reinforcements. Perhaps, could you send the Shadowatch to assist?"

"You had me at "Two Master knockoffs," Treie responded. "You can bet we'll be there in an indeterminate amount of time. These things take really long to organize, you know."

"Response: But of course. I am sending you the coordinates now. Please do not be too late, meatbag."

Ezra could just imagine the massive eye roll Treie was doing right now.

"You're not welcome, HK," she drawled.

"Reply: I'm not thanking you either."

And just like that, the transmission ended.

"HK, move, please," Ezra inquired. "I'm going to contact Mon Mothma."

T3, who Ezra had forgotten was there in the chaos of the space battle, chimed in with some very helpful and insightful beeping noises.

"Translation: T3 says that the odds of the other cells being willing to come to our aid at this time is lower than that of everyone in the Empire being independently struck by lightning at the same hour of the same day. That is, zero percent.

"Query: Where is this ship going, anyway?"

"Krownest," Ezra explained. "I figured our Mandalorian friends would be more than willing to assist. Especially because Sabine's been on our side this entire time."

T3 made a series of beeps and cocked its head.

"Retort: I'm not allowed to say that! It would shatter the Jedi's frail self-esteem!" HK whispered furiously.

"Did you say something?" the Jedi in question asked.

"Reassurement: No, no, nobody's saying anything over here, meatbag!" HK blurted, oddly cheery for a bloodthirsty ancient droid. "Let's go to Krownest! That'll be a great idea that definitely will work! It's the greatest idea since... deciding to go to Krownest!"

 **!0*0!**

"No," Fenn Rau stated. "If you were ever going to ask for Clan Wren's assistance, now would probably the singular worst time to do it. I'd cut my losses and stay here, given how fortunate you were to get to Krownest at all."

"Our resources are already strained from the civil war against Clan Saxon," Ursa Wren explained, exasperated. "We simply cannot offer any assistance."

"Come on… hear me out," Ezra pleaded. He got a nod in response. "T3, boot up a display of the Empire's blockade."

Almost instantly, a light blue hologram fizzled into existence, displaying a detailed hanging picture of the Empire's forces.

"We're trapped on Atollon and need help," the Padawan summed up.

"Your biggest problems are those second and third Interdictors; nobody is escaping with those around," Sabine noted instantly.

T3 beeped indignantly.

"T3 just reminded me that we may or may not have a planet's worth of psuedo-Jedi beelining to Atollon at this instant," Ezra translated. Whatever the Mandalorians were thinking Ezra was going to say, it wasn't that.

"... What?" Fenn Rau said.

"That doesn't change anything," Tristan retorted. "Clan Wren simply lacks the resources, as much as we want to help; we can barely keep ourselves alive."

The room grew somber in a heartbeat, evidently remembering those who had passed in the battles between the two clans. The silence ended when the Jedi in the room closed his eyes in defeat.

"If you aren't willing to give assistance, I suppose I should be going," Ezra said solemnly. Bye, Sabine."

"No, not _bye_ , Ezra," Sabine stated. "I'm going with you."

"But Sabine, you just got back!" Tristan interjected. "Besides, what Ezra is trying to accomplish is impossible."

"So was being reunited with Clan Wren," Sabine shot back. "But my friends make the impossible… possible. If Ezra thinks we can make a difference, then we probably can- and I probably will."

T3, who had been all but forgotten, beeped in agreement.

"You and your friends restored my daughter to me," Ursa concluded, addressing Ezra, "and that is a debt worth repaying. I can't leave Clan Wren undefended, but I can allow you a few ships and whatever warriors are willing to accompany you."

"Thank you, Mother," Sabine replied, bowing slightly.

"You're still not going to raise much of an army, Sabine," Fenn Rau stated drolly, shutting down any premature celebration.

In response, the Mandalorian turned to the holograms, eying the Interdictors.

"I don't think we'll need one."

 **!0*0!**

If someone could explain to KE-03 where the hell all these starfighters came from, that'd be great.

They had just finished bombarding the entire planet after they had decimated the Rebel forces above the atmosphere. No doubt they still had ships in reserve, but it would take them lots of time to recover. 03 wanted to continue with the orbital bombardment, but Thrawn had shut the idea down, instead opting to take KE-02 down to the surface to destroy the Rebels personally. This left 03 with the one and only Darth Forcedamn Vader literally breathing down his neck, increasing the tension in the room a thousandfold.

For Force's sake, why couldn't not dying just be _easy_?

His paranoia was multiplied when a battalion's worth of ships appeared out of nowhere; each and every one was piloted by a Force-sensitive individual. Some of those signatures were extraordinarily strong, but they paled in comparison to the _monster_ lurking on the surface of Atollon.

He was worried for himself, but mostly for 02 down on the surface. He would have to fight the Old Geezer, but with 04 keeping tabs on him and augmenting his already severe reactions to his expenditure on the _Vanguard_ , he doubted it would be an issue. No, it was the other signature that instilled fear in him.

"They're Force sensitive, aren't they?"

03 jumped at the sudden sound, and whirled on his toe to see that stormtrooper commander just standing there. Wasn't he supposed to be on Konstantine's ship? Oh wait, that was the one that blew up. What a moron.

"Yes," KE-03 spat. "That means that they can annihilate us if they really wanted."

"I find your lack of faith distressing," Vader boomed.

"They don't seem to be advancing," GRG-892 noted. "It's almost like they're waiting for something."

"Send some TIE's at them," Vader ordered. "Stall them for as long as possible; maybe one of them will take one too many hits."

GRG-892 snapped his fingers. "That could work… but no… they're Force sensitive, and that sort of ruins most tactics. Trust me, I know. I have a better idea."

"And what is this _idea_ of yours, exactly?" 03 said haughtily.

"Trust me on this," the stormtrooper replied smartly, "I know what I'm doing."

With that, he spun on his heels and regressed into the starship.

 **!0*0!**

The ground assault was going well, KE-02 noted. He was so close. He could _feel_ the Old Geezer's presence just a few miles ahead. He was probably aware that he was being tracked, in some capacity, but KE-04's manipulation had probably all but deadened him to the world.

In a sudden blaze, six of their AT-DP walkers exploded; the bulky things had probably stepped on some mines laid by the Rebels. The mutilated corpses of the walkers fell just short of the large green energy shield encasing their base. What a nuisance.

Thrawn's cruiser floated passively right over his troopers. Would it be such a pain for him to walk, just like all his soldiers did?

KE-02's thoughts were bashed out of his head as AT-AT's flooded through the pass. They triggered more mines, but the small explosives were no match for the Deathtanium armor. Whoever came up with the name 'Deathtanium'? It was such a dumb name.

His musings prevented him from noticing the two figures escaping further into enemy territory. Some A-wings launched an attack, filling the air with their useless noise. KE-02's rage intensified as he stretched out his hand, grasping at one of the starfighters and bringing its pilot to a slow and nasty end by suicide bombing into the crimson plains. Many of the others were annihilated by the Empire's AT-AT's. A worthless incursion, but noteworthy enough.

The Old Geezer's signature was steadily increasing in strength. Evidently, the Sith Clone was finally going to show his face. And KE-02 was more than willing to meet him on the field, willing to make the original clone die.

His thoughts were interrupted by the groaning and gnashing of bending and breaking metal. He boredly directed his eyes downwards, where an AT-AT had just been sliced along the knees by the blind one's blue lightsaber. He and the other two Rebels exchanged some words, then beelined to a cavern just within eyesight.

Thrawn finally decided to land just outside of the cave. It only took a few more seconds for KE-02 to dash right up to him, breathing slightly heavier.

"Destroy any rebel ships attempting to flee the complex," Thrawn ordered in that annoyingly calm voice of his, "and move all ground troops to storm the base itself. Capture rebel officers if at all possible."

"And if you see another version of me with a sword, lure him to me," KE-02 demanded angrily.

The tunnel suddenly lit up with bullet fire from hidden Rebels. They had probably stuffed every nook and cranny full of their soldiers to attempt to kill as many stormtroopers as possible.

 _Everyone run_ , KE-02 thought, a gleeful look crossing his face. _Here comes the rain._

 **!0*0!**

Kastan emerged from battle meditation completely spent. It took much time, effort, and energy to bolster morale for so many and to limit it to even more. Stalking through Chopper Base, the True Light Paragon downed a glass of water before going to retrieve his blade. The blade weighed much less than it looked; the interior was filled with a lattice network of metal beams and air, as to reduce the weight as much as possible. While Kastan's technique with the blade was second to (almost) none, he was still in the intermediate stage between a full blade and the lightsaber, and it would take less time to reverse the bad habits training with a lightsaber was often associated with. Besides, using a hollow sword balanced Kastan's not-so-physically gifted nature, allowing him to swing the sword faster and be able to deal more damage.

KE-02 (he assumed it was KE-02; it could have been KE-03, 04, 05 or an even greater number) was moving towards the base through the pass that Zeb and Rex were fighting on. He could only pray that they hadn't been slain by the Empire yet. Never mind, there they were, just cresting the mesa from that cave they said they were going through. Kanan's Force signature was following, but right on their tails was KE-02 and, presumably, Thrawn and his forces.

"Dodonna! Prepare your ships for takeoff!" Hera ordered. She had taken complete control over Chopper Base and no one seemed to be questioning it.

"But what about the blockade?" Dodonna questioned.

"The blockade will be fine," Kastan suddenly interjected. "The True Light showed up."

 **!0*0!**

A steady stream of TIEs flew out of the Destroyers' hangers and into battle, screeching against the void of space to meet with the True Light pseudo-Jedi. They were arranged in spheres, almost as if they were protecting something.

Space was suddenly filled with green laser shots as the TIEs streaked forward. The True Light ships bobbed and weaved in tandem with the bolts, only losing one or two ships. They fired back in a great red volley, and many TIEs were lost. They still kept the spherical formation, though, as they closed the distance.

The Empire's tactics confused Treie. The True Light's Force-augmented reactions would make them just as formidable close up as from far away. Either the Empire's tactician was very brave or very stupid. Then there was the question of the spherical formations…

A group of TIE's caught Treie's eye. There were three Empire pilots-

Wait. There were _four_ ships and _three_ pilots… so one of them had to be empty.

In a moment of horror, the Darkside Master of the True Light noted a flashing red light in the TIE furthest back, which could only mean…

 _Clever bastards._

"Section 3-18! Pull back immediately! Don't let those TIE's get to close!" She yelled.

She was too late.

The three TIEs split up to reveal the fourth. Before the True Light members could react, the last TIE smashed into them, annihilating one of them in a relatively quaint collision. It was only quaint compared to the massive conflagration that wiped out a third of their forces.

 _This is going to hurt the Inquisitor trade,_ Treie grumbled.

It was common knowledge that the True Light and the Empire had no real reason to coexist. Tensions were bound to run high, so both parties agreed to some terms as soon as the True Light had formed. The True Light had one resource that the Empire was in desperate need of: Force-sensitive individuals. Therefore, the True Light agreed to send a certain quota of Force-sensitive individuals to the Empire to be Inquisitors; it was either that, or be destroyed entirely.

And being destroyed was a lose-lose situation.

That was the way it had gone for the entire True Light's history. But now that shots had been fired, the True Light could feasibly back out of this obligation, strengthening the True Light and dealing major damage to the Empire at the same time.

She had no time to think, as another sphere of TIEs got close again. Another explosion, another quarter of the True Light's forces were slain. The Empire was winning, and they had barely even started.

Then a ship jumped out of hyperspace. A quick Force scan revealed the pilot to be Ezra Bridger. Another few ships materialized next to him whose origins she couldn't place. The few True Light ships that remained broke formation to band together around the new arrivals.

It was time to end this.

 **!0*0!**

"Kastan?" Hera asked. The True Light paragon had just emerged from his quarters, looking slightly more refreshed than he had going in.

"There's a KE unit out there," Kastan said solemnly. "Kanan and the others won't be enough to stop him, which is why I'll be diverting them."

"Kastan. No," Hera ordered lividly. "You're part of this family, and that's how it's going to stay."

"Hera, I'm not even a Rebel," Kastan replied gently. "I'm just an old benefactor who decided to tag along one day."

He wasn't wrong. Back before Phoenix Squadron had defeated the original Grand Inquisitor, Kastan was a completely foreign name. All they had known was Treie, who occasionally offered the group opportunities to strike at the Empire in a way that would benefit both them and the True Light. Do that, and they'd receive credits. A simple business transaction.

"Anyway, if I don't do this, we might end up losing this battle and ending up in the grips of the Empire," Kastan continued. "As much as you may dislike it, you can't stop me.

"And if things start to go south, abandon me on the planet. I have two shuttles already prepared a few miles south of the base; Chopper is waiting there as we speak."

With an air of finality, the True Light Grandmaster turned on his heel and stalked towards the oncoming horde, unsheathing his blade and unleashing a few practice swings on the way.

He knew he was doing something stupid. And to be honest, he didn't care. It was a win-win situation. If he lived, he lived and got to try to blow up a massive space station at some indeterminable point in time. If he died, he wouldn't have to deal with these stupid voices in his head anymore.

Yup. Definitely a win-win.

 **!0*0!**

"You can't be serious, Lord Vader!" KE-03 argued.

"The Emperor has summoned me," Vader spat, "based on a vision from the Force to intercept an incursion on Scarif. The Emperor's designs take priority over all else, _including_ the orders of an insignificant gnat with Force Powers."

"I-" KE-03 started before wisely shutting his mouth.

"You're in charge of the ship," Vader said scornfully, sounding an awful lot like he wanted nothing more than to crush KE-03's throat. "Try to not fail too badly."

With that, the Sith Lord stalked out of the bridge and soon left the field.

Just as 03 turned around, he noticed a bunch of armored people - Mandalorians? - jumping out of a starfighter to start shooting the _Interdictor_ 's gravity wells. That could be bad.

"Order all available troopers to converge on that _Interdictor_ ," 03 ordered. "We need to wipe out as many of those Mandalorians as we can.

"Someone else take over the ship. I'm going down there and ending this myself, too," the Sith Clone said.

"I assume that'll put me in charge, then," GRG-892 said confidently.

" _Fuck_ no," KE-03 replied scathingly, whirling on the Stormtrooper Commander. "Governor Pryce will do. To put it frankly, I know what you did, and I'm not going to let it go as easily as the Old Geezer did."

KE-03 shoved him aside as he stalked out of the bridge. Soon afterwards, a fleet of TIEs flooded out of the _Chimeara_ towards the _Interdictor_.

"What was that about?" Pryce asked.

"I-it must have been about me gaining KE-00's trust and then backstabbing him," George assured.

Pryce squinted at the stormtrooper before turning away.

 _Why do I almost_ want _them to find out?_ He asked himself.

 **!0*0!**

"Sir: We've spotted G5-81356. He's just over that ridge-"

 _Bingo,_ KE-02 thought.

"Good- _bye_!" the Sith Clone said snarkily before dashing over the ridge.

"Wait! KE-02! You can't just-"

"His skill set is no longer required to complete our mission," Thrawn assured the stormtrooper. "We continue on to the mesa. Perhaps today will be the day 02 defeats his predecessor."

KE-02 ascended the ridge. He had plenty of time to collect himself and notice the rather ominous-looking storm approaching from behind them. None of it really processed. KE-02 was fixated on destroying the Rebel Kastan Enderbeck and proving that these new KE-units were superior in every way to the original. Perhaps then, Vader would stop treating them like worse than the scum on his boots.

Lo and behold, there he was. The Old Geezer had dyed his hair white for some reason; to differentiate himself from the other clones, maybe? It was kind of worthless when all KE's had that one specific quirk that made them differentiable from the others at a glance; like how KE-03 had made a small scar on his left cheek with his lightsaber. It didn't matter.

"I assume you want to kill me," Kastan started, breaking 02 out of his thoughts.

"No," KE-02 refuted. "I want to _end_ you."

"That sounded better in your head," Kastan replied, smirking.

"I knew you would say that, because that's exactly what I was thinking," 02 grumbled. "No matter. Today is the day we prove that I'm more than just a copy of you."

"I was thinking along those same lines," the Old Geezer replied, "but replacing more with less."

"Congratulations! You just earned yourself a one way ticket to hell!" KE-02 screeched, suddenly snapping.

"I think we both know why that's not a viable option," G5-81356 said. "But if it were true, I'd see you there."

KE-02 drew his lightsaber. A single drop of rain rammed itself into the beam, fizzling into a plume of steam.

Without warning, the True Light Grandmaster entered a defensive stance. He said nothing. They stood there for a while, long enough for Thrawn to enter the mesa.

Suddenly, both forces sprung into action, blades locking in a crossbuck. They remained like that for a time, trying to use brute strength to force the other into submission. It was clear that Kastan was losing; he had spent too much time beating himself up over the past two weeks whereas KE-02 had been training for his entire month-long life for this moment.

Seeing an opportunity, Kastan quickly pulled his blade back enough for KE-02's red lightsaber to slip past, throwing the Sith Clone off-balance as the force he had exerted on the blade was now working against him. Kastan then jammed the blade forwards, but KE-02 managed to twist out of the way just enough to only receive a minor cut on the side.

KE-02 grunted, pushing Kastan back with the Force. A cut like this was nothing, Vader had said. Spurred on by the thought of impressing the Dark Lord of the Sith, KE-02 bounded forward once more to meet KE-00, once again meeting in a crossbuck. Unlike last time, however, Kastan quickly backed off to make another crossbuck. Suddenly on the defensive, KE-02 parried and followed up with a roundhouse kick to Kastan's face. For a split second he saw his foot connect with Kastan's right cheek, but he was interrupted by Kastan's boot crashing into the right side of _his_ face. Clearly, it did more damage to Kastan than it did to himself, as the True Light paragon touched his now-discoloured face and hissed at the contact. KE-00 was able to bring his sword up in time to parry the Sith Clone's powerful vertical slice, but he was at an awful angle and he knew it, so he tried to kick KE-02's legs out from under him. He wasn't expecting KE-02 to suddenly let up on his attack to deal a savage punch to the gut, somehow not hitting him with the lightsaber. This made Kastan's attack go all kinds of awry as he fell backwards into the mud behind him, landing his kick in a _much_ more painful place.

KE-02 doubled over in a cruel mixture of shock and pain, giving Kastan enough of a reprieve to scramble back to a ready position. The slight drizzle before was gone; now it was a full-blown thunderstorm. A lightning strike pierced the ground where Kastan was laying just a few seconds before, filling the air with the scent of ozone. It was just as well, for the Sith Clone he was fighting looked like he was coming back around.

And he looked about as happy as Kastan had probably looked when he learned that Brenda died.

"Underhanded bastard," KE-02 spat.

"If I recall correctly, you pushed me off my balance. I was aiming for your feet," Kastan clarified.

KE-02 simply rolled his eyes before lashing out with the Force, draining a bit of Kastan's health to replenish his own. In response, Kastan attempted to induce a Stasis on the Sith Clone, but it only succeeded at slowing him down somewhat.

The True Light Grandmaster wasted no time in attacking, but even still, KE-02 managed to block all of his attacks. He even threw in some blasts of Force Lightning, but judging by his non-reaction, KE-02 had built up some resistance to the electric shocks.

Kastan narrowly avoided a skewer from KE-02's lightsaber. The effects of the Statis were finally wearing off, and so far, nobody had really taken a noticeable hit. For the third time that exchange, their weapons crossed in an X formation as they both struggled against each other.

In a sudden burst of strength, the Sith Clone twisted his blade in a circle, flinging Kastan's sword into the maelstrom. Having no other options, Kastan was forced to use the Force to pick KE-02 up and hold him in one place, hopefully out of reach of his lightsaber. This hope was dashed when KE-02 simply used the Force to fling his lightsaber at KE-00's neck, forcing him to divert some of his efforts into stopping the blade from slitting his throat open. It was extraordinarily difficult, but he would last for a little while yet.

Echoes from the mesa emanated throughout the plains, and Kastan could see the _Ghost_ and a few other ships escaping the planet.

Sweat poured down Kastan's brow as he struggled against the lightsaber trying to disconnect his head from his torso. He knew he wouldn't last much longer under this sort of strain. The rain had plastered both his white hair and KE-02's chocolatey hair to their skulls as they struggled against each other.

Back at the mesa, the Empire's forces had apparently lost their wits and started trying to shoot the sky down. What were they attempting to do, aid the fleet miles above them?

It was then that he noticed the clouds above suddenly billow downwards in an anvil-shape as _something_ fell out of the sky. This was an opportunity, Kastan realized with controlled glee, to end this fight and not die.

Mustering the last reserves of his strength, KE-00 forced the red lightsaber out of range, although he suffered a nasty-looking tear in his palm as a consequence. 02 was able to snatch it back with the Force before the looming shadow just above him caught his attention. He looked up to see an actual _mountain_ fall out of the sky right on top of him. He brought his hand up, but the thing landed on him before anything meaningful could be accomplished. Kastan stayed long enough to watch KE-02 crumble, lightsaber burying itself in the fallen creature's exterior before dashing off to the safety of his ship.

His kissaki-moroha-zukuri- who cared about his blade?

The rain was still coming down in sheets, but at least the lightning had ceased. All the better, because Kastan really didn't feel like getting shocked today.

He stumbled into the small vessel, and ordered Chopper and T3 to get moving before promptly collapsing on the floor out of exhaustion.

Had he been more coherent, he would have noticed KE-03's lifeless, space-suited corpse, peppered with blaster holes, drift past the vessel into the void of space.

 **!0*0!**

They met up with the fleet an hour later on Yavin IV. The losses were staggering, and they would need even more time to regroup and destroy the Star Forge. Kastan, especially, was devastated; he knew better than anyone what the Star Forge was capable of.

What did any of it matter? He was no ace of the Rebellion, nor was he even officially affiliated with it. The True Light had been absolutely decimated in the battle, having lost seven-twelfths of their entire number, and the Grandmaster felt obligated to oversee the proceedings of sending their dead off.

"Kastan?" a familiar voice asked.

The clone in question turned to note Sabine standing behind him. "Sabine. Good to see you're not dead."

"Hera filled me in," she stated, cutting directly to the chase. "And can I ask what the actual hell is _wrong_ with you?"

Kastan blinked. "Is this about taking your hair dye?"

The Mandalorian paused for about half a second before viciously slapping Kastan across the face.

"No! This is about beating yourself up about being a clone! All you did was mope around and train yourself to death for a week, and where did it get you? Nowhere! And then you storm off to fight KE-01 like you don't care!"

"Actually, it was KE-02," Kastan clarified

"Nobody cares if it was KE-02 or KE-01!" Sabine argued. "Nobody gives a flying fuck about how you were made by the Empire in a test tube. Nobody cares that your clones fight for said Empire. Nobody cares about what you were then… we care about who you are _now_. _I_ care about who you are. And I'm not going to stand for you bullshitting yourself!"

Kastan simply stood there. "I… I'm sorry. I just needed to prove that I'm more than just a clone. I needed to show that I'm… different. That I'm not just a carbon copy of those that would come after me. That I can overcome myself. That I can be the best I can be.

"And I can only be the best I can be if there's not a million copies of me running around. Do you understand?"

"No. Honestly, I don't," Sabine admitted, calming down now that Kastan recognized his stupidity. "I've never been cloned, so I don't think I can know. But I think I get where you're coming from. Maybe."

The True Light Grandmaster exhaled, contented, as a lazy grin spread across his features. "Thanks, Sab. I'm not going to stop training, but I'll try to not take it overboard. And I'll stop working with a pistol altogether; last time I shot one of those, I accidentally hit the Ghost and Hera made me spend four hours cleaning every inch of the ship. Also, you wouldn't happen to mind me using more of that hair dye, would you? I'd rather not be mistaken for another KE unit if I can help it."

"I suppose that would be fine, as I was going to change mine anyway" Sabine said. "You know where to find it."

With that, she turned and left, as the True Light Grandmaster turned his attention to the procession of his friends, now locked in an eternal sleep.

 **!0*0!**

 _It was dark._

 _And he was surrounded by KE units, maskless._

 _This was off to a_ great _start._

" _So. You think that you're unique, that you're something that isn't us," they chorused._

" _Go to hell," Kastan replied automatically._

" _You_ are _in hell, silly-willy," they replied in unison, demented grins spreading across their garish features. "Your very own, private, personal hell."_

" _I don't care," Kastan grunted. "Go anywhere that isn't here."_

" _But we belong here!" they pouted. "It's our job to prove that we are you!"_

" _Then do it!" Kastan screamed, snapping._

 _They grinned lopsidedly. "We didn't have to do a thing. You just proved that you're an inferior creation! You are rash where we are steady. You hesitate where we are sure. You are merciful where we are ruthless. You fail where we succeed."_

" _That's… that's all a lie…" Kastan attempted to argue. He knew he was wrong, deep down, and steadfastly refused to accept it._

" _Please," they chorused condescendingly. "Even you believe we're right. Which makes sense because we're you, and you're us. Now, repeat after me: 'I am inferior'."_

" _Y-you are inferior," Kastan uttered. His resolve was slipping._

" _This is getting sad. Repeat after me: 'I am inferior'."_

" _You are worthless." He had lost hope._

" _Just say it. 'I am inferior'."_

" _You are… s… su…"_

"Superior."

Kastan opened his eyes, momentarily confused as to why he had just blurted 'superior'. Then he remembered, and a tidal wave of guilt coursed over his being.

He had given up. He had failed.

"I'm sorry, everyone," he said to the silence. "I still have to prove that I'm stronger than these- than _my_ demons."

With that, he tiredly threw himself out of bed and walked off towards an empty field, to fuel the vicious cycle of becoming stronger than himself.

 **!0*0!**

 **So Kastan has some deep-seeded issues with who he is now. He believes that he has to become stronger than himself in order to defeat the demons who share his blood, and that it is** _ **his**_ **responsibility to crush them all into nothingness. This sort of change was inspired by a Mary Sue Litmus Test, which essentially tells you if an OC is a Mary Sue. With what I know about the character, my final score was in moderate danger of becoming a Mary Sue, and one of the places I lost points on was essentially that if my character undergoes trauma, then they go away with little to no character development or a bit of cuddling from the love interest. I wanted to rectify this, so I made Kastan's self-doubt strong enough to last beyond Sabine's pep-talk. So if this is coming out of left field for you, that's why.**

 **Anyway, that was Chapter 9 of SW:R. Leave a review if you enjoyed, leave a review if you don't, leave a review if you don't know what's going on… just, if you have literally any thoughts about how to improve, post a review on this piece, because that beefs up how many people read this.**

 **Thank you for your time.**


	10. The end

**Yeah. It's the end. I just can't bring myself to write for this anymore. It's a disgusting Mary Sue fic, and I despise it with a fiery passion.**

 **So, for all three of you who actually care, I'll just give you the TL:DR of SWR's missing 10th chapter. Basically, KE-04 Force Nukes the Star Forge with a Thought Bomb, killing Kastan, HK, Zeb, and Chopper, as well as most of the Rebel fleet.**

 **Oh, and KE-02 ain't dead. He becomes Snoke later.**

 **Aberration was focused on FO V Resistance, and the creation and (mis)adventures of KE-66, cloned from KE-02 before his death in Episode VIII. KE-66 has ridiculous Mind Hacking abilities, but can't use the Force very well outside of that. So KE-66 is an illusion worker, actually screwing with a person's brain functioning to make them fight themselves or just straight-up die.**

 **So the plot of Aberration was going to be about KE-66 just after Episode VIII. KE-66 is serving as the Governor of Coruscant, and because Kylo Ren has become Supreme Leader, KE-66 and a few of his stormtrooper buddies decide to defect, and KE-66 is eventually elected to Supreme Chancellor. He and the Resistance plan to wipe out the First Order entirely, but the plan is dashed when Ren is overthrown by a mysterious Darth Furiz, who KE-66 theorizes to be a KE-67 that he doesn't know about.**

 **The rest of the fic was going to highlight the New Republic under KE-66, and how the Republic essentially becomes stabilized by the flow of money into the war against the First Order. KE-66, at some point, starts to wonder what the war is for, and contemplates forming a Jedi and Sith faction allied with the Republic, to represent true balance. This is when the Resistance splits from the New Republic, becoming their own organization again.**

 **Without KE-66's knowledge, the remnants of the Resistance form an alliance with the Yuzhan Vong, a secretive extra-galactic race of peoples who are extremely resistant to the Force. In literally the last 1000 words of the fic, KE-66 and Darth Furiz are revealed to be the same person (and a Sith), and he was trying to unify the galaxy against the Yuzhan Vong, who he knew wanted to destroy the Force. Unfortunately, the Yuzhan Vong are waiting for him, and slaughter him because they blocked his access to the Force. Then they turn on the Resistance, and the story ends with the bang of a gunshot.**

 **If anyone wants to adopt this monstrosity, feel free. I have another project I'm working on that shows a lot of progress. It's going to be really edgy, though, so there's that. But if you're interested, stick around? Maybe? I don't know anymore.**


End file.
